The Ties That Bind
by LoreoftheFaye
Summary: Sequel to the "Of Faith And Sin" multi chapter fic. Gorgolek is dead and Buffy's pregnant. Can Watcher and Slayer make a romance work with the Council against them and a mysterious new threat hanging overhead?
1. Chained To You

**Well, here it is folks! The sequel to Of Faith And Sin. I'm very pleased with how the first came out and I'm very excited to see how this one shapes up. Please read the original if you haven't and R&R both. Woo hoo!**

It was New Years before Rupert was permitted to leave the hospital and still three months beyond before he completed his physical therapy and was fully recovered from his injuries from his fight with Gorgolek. By the time he made his way back home to his flat Buffy's pregnancy was showing. He still couldn't believe it was real but he thanked every god in the heavens anyway for his good fortune.

She all but moved into his flat after he was released from the hospital and helped take care of him through his recovery. She was only three months from delivery now and he saw the telltale bump underneath her blouse when he looked at her. Needless to say Joyce didn't approve of the match, or of her daughter moving in with her Watcher but she knew she couldn't stop her. Nor was Joyce thrilled about the prospect of becoming a grandmother from her nineteen year old daughter especially at the hands of someone more than twice her age. It was the main crux of their relationship and it strained Buffy when she thought about home.

The Scoobies were more willing to come around to their plight though it took longer for it to happen. Willow accepted it first and was there to support her best friend through morning sickness and pregnancy pains. Xander was the last to accept it but now referred to himself almost exclusively as "Uncle Xander" in reference to the baby. That made Buffy feel somewhat normal with her mother heading the campaign against their relationship.

Still, in the night when they made love Rupert Giles showered his lover's body with kisses and caresses and listened to the heart beating in her belly. He spoke to the unborn child and told it of the wonders of the world and how happy he was. He promised to show it the best things in this life and swore it would never be loved more by any two people for as long as it lived. Buffy tolerated all of this with gentle patience. After all, it was the pure joy of a man experiencing something he was convinced he'd never have.

The silvered moonlight poured over them in their bedroom and he shifted in bed. He couldn't sleep. He turned and studied his perfect Slayer lying by his side. Her milky skin seemed to glisten against the white sheets. Her blond hair shone like a halo over her head and he was struck again by how truly magnificent she was. He loved how her cheeks swelled cutely down her her seemly neck and then to the smooth curvature of her shoulders. She was naked and the swell of her breasts beneath the blanket left him breathless. He brushed a kiss over her cheek and she made a sleepy sound, turning away from him to face the bedroom door. It had taken her three months to get used to sleeping in a bed with someone else. It had taken him the same amount of time to convince himself that all of this was real.

"Darling, are you awake?" he asked softly, his voice carrying in the silent room. Her lack of answer was answer enough.

He simply wasn't tired and couldn't stomach the idea of lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. He slipped from beneath the bedclothes and wrapped a robe around his naked body. There were perks to having a pregnant girlfriend. One of which was an extended sexual appetite. He was pleased to note Buffy showed the same voracity in all things and not just her duty. A smirk crossed his lips as he made his way downstairs. A cup of warm Darjeeling and Keats…maybe Shelley. Yes, that would put him right again.

He put the water in the kettle and set it on the stove. He leaned against the back counter of his small kitchen and looked out the window cutout into the living room. The windows to the front of the complex lay beyond at the opposite side of the room. From where he was he had a very pretty view of the complex fountain. As the kettle began to sing he felt something else that was foreign to him in the room beyond. It was like a nagging itch. He knew it was there and just couldn't reach it.

He took the kettle from the heat and came around the corner of the kitchen into the living room proper. He wasn't expecting what he found. A very familiar brown demon was standing in front of him. By the stony look of his skin and the familiar horns jutting from his head Rupert had no doubt who it was. His tea cup shook against its saucer. He finally found voice a moment later.

"Gorgolek."

"Son of Chaos."

"You're dead. Buffy killed you. You can't be real."

"Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I can't be real, my child. You of all people should know that death is not always the end of the essence. Do you wish me to leave?"

"No." the other was quick to admit. "I was rather sorry I had to kill you."

"Yes, I know. I was sorry to try to kill you as well. I almost did, didn't I?"

"Well, that bloody Furlon of yours didn't seem to help much."

"Regrettable loss there, as well."

"Why are you here?"

"To warn you, Rupert Giles."

"Warn me?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I'm listening."

"If that Slayer of yours keeps carrying this child she will die."

The Watcher blinked. That wasn't what he expected to hear. Dire threats of Earthly doom, maybe. Apocalypse. A severe tongue lashing at the very least. Not this. Certainly not this. His jade eyes glanced upstairs to where his lover slept peacefully curled up in what he'd come to consider their bed and blanched a paler shade of white. As an already pale Britishman it was a hard feat. He looked back to Gorgolek.

"Are you being cryptic with me?"

"Have I ever found need for crypticism, Rupert Giles?"

"No."

"I assure you, I have no desire to start now. I have spoken simply what I mean to say and nothing more."

"How will she die?"

"That is not given to me to tell. It is a loss, though. She is a very rare example of mortal beauty."

"I will keep her alive."

"Of course you will try."

"Why have you warned me?"

"I have my own reasons, Son of Chaos, but you can content yourself by knowing I liked having you as my child."

"Will I see you again?"

"I think not."

"Regrettable."

"Quite."

"Goodbye, Gorgolek."

"Wake up, Rupert Giles."

"Hm?" his head shook a little but his eyes didn't quite open yet.

"I said wake up, Giles!" Buffy's voice was insistent and a bit higher pitched than normal. That was her worried tone. He knew it well. Immediately his eyes flew open and he took in the sight of his sunlight drenched bedroom with the rumpled blond by his side, looking at him with a mask of concern. She was sitting over him. Her hand was on his shoulder and he assumed she'd been shaking him. With a groan of protest from his lethargic body he sat up.

"What is it, dearest?" he asked her.

"You were talking in your sleep!" she answered. "You were dreaming."

"Surely there's nothing wrong with a dream." He replied slowly, remembering the dream in vivid detail and every word spoken echoed in his mind. "It's not like it was another woman."

"You said I was going to die."

"What?" he turned to her, eyes sharply focused. "What did you say?"

"You said if I keep the baby I'll die."

"It was only a dream, darling. Pay it no mind."

"I suppose." She didn't sound very sure.

"Honestly, it was only a dream. You'll be perfectly safe." _I hope…._ He added mentally.

"Alright." Her dubious expression faded and she moved to kiss him softly. He gave into the kiss and pretended everything was alright though he wasn't at all convinced. "_Gorgolek, you bastard._" He mentally admonished. "_What the hell is this all about?_"

He never received an answer.


	2. Tongue Tied And Twisted

**Sorry for the delay…this chapter turned out longer than I anticipated. Thank you, also, for the quick and numerous responses! Glad to entertain!**

"What do you mean you're going out patrolling?" he demanded, visibly shocked by her casual declaration. "You're six and a half months pregnant. How on Earth are you going to fight?"

"Last time I checked this whole chosen thing doesn't have an expiration date and unless you think Faith can take over from prison you're stuck with me doing my job."

The blond looked at him and echoed his horrified look but for entirely different reasons. She was very aware of her condition and why he was being protective of her but she just couldn't understand his outburst. He was the one always stressing duty over personal circumstance and even sent her to die for it. Sure, they'd bent a lot of rules together and even incited a full scale rebellion against the Council but there was one thing she couldn't escape – her so called destiny.

"I won't allow it!" he burst out and then stopped short when he realized what he'd said.

"Allow?" she asked back. Her voice was colored with amusement rather than anger and she arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him. He backpedaled.

"It's dangerous. We cannot have anything happening to the baby. It's so close to term."

"Evil doesn't take a break. As it is I'll be out of commission for a month before and a month after the birth. I have Slayer healing and all but I'll need some time to rest.

"You want to go patrolling up to your eighth month?" he couldn't hide the disbelief in his tone. She stared at him, confused.

"Honestly, Giles, what would you do without me?"

"I don't aim to find out." He responded, his heart tightened.

"Look, Faith's only just now come back to the light. She's in prison paying her debts. It's just me for now."

"But the gang and I can…"

"Oh, please, Giles. You'll get yourself hurt and you don't heal like you used to when you were young."

It was her turn to pause and his turn to wince. There were only a few taboo subjects in their relationship and his age seemed to be turning into one of them. He was mortally afraid of being useless and not being able to care for a child. He didn't like to think about it but when his baby so close to being born but he had to admit his age. He'd only just turned 46 and by the time the baby was old enough to start school he'd be in his fifties. He shuddered to think how old he'd be when the child graduated high school, let alone when it started having children of its own.

"Yes, I'm aware, Buffy." He said patiently. "But we have little choice. I'll take Willow and Xander with me."

"I can't risk you guys."

"You'd rather risk the baby."

"Yes!" she stopped, frustrated, "No! That's not what I meant. There's no risk to the baby."

"Buffy?" His tone wasn't improving. It was rather skeptical. She sighed.

"I'm not gonna get my way here, am I?"

"Not even a little bit."

She sighed and threw herself down onto the couch. Her lover followed her with his eyes and felt like he'd let her down somehow. He couldn't tell her about his dream and upset her without cause, especially not in her delicate condition. He couldn't prove that it was only a dream and not something prophetic and couldn't risk losing her for the child's sake. It took him a moment to realize her gaze was throwing daggers in his direction and he looked up to meet them. Catching her stare head on wasn't any better. He almost shied away from it, feeling vulnerable.

"Buffy." He began, feeling his resolve almost crumbling against the weight of her being angry with him. They'd been angry at each other a lot in their long acquaintance and each felt the brunt of that anger from one side of the fence or the other at some point. Still, somehow they always managed to pick up the pieces and put them back together again.

"What?"

"If I go with you to keep an eye on you while you patrol will that be a sufficient compromise?"

He delighted at the grin that broke out over her face and she nodded. "Suits me!" she admitted, springing to her feet. He had to admit she was still fairly spry for being so far along in her pregnancy. They were even still making love though most books said she'd be too uncomfortable for the exercise. He was always gentle about it except when she urged him on with her small, pleading whimpers. Then he did his best to satisfy her whims. He suspected, though, that she'd soon get to that uncomfortable state and his fun would be over until after the child was born.

"Alright. Let me grab my jacket."

"It's March." She deadpanned. "In Sunnydale."

She herself was dressed in only a short sleeved top and a loose pair of pants. He shrugged and stripped off his collared shirt to the tee shirt underneath. He went upstairs and now her eyes followed his body. She silently condemned her hormones and trailed after him. She caught up to him in their bedroom with his pants off pulling a pair of jeans from the closet. Just now he was in only a pair of boxers and a tee shirt. He looked like he could have just come from bed. She gulped. She moved forward and he noticed her presence just in time to feel her arms around him and her lips meeting his own.

The jeans slipped from his nerveless fingers to the floor.

He returned her kiss eagerly, their small fight all but forgotten. He held onto her and relished the feeling. It was still novel to be able to hold her like this and not feel hesitant or afraid of repercussion. He kissed her with an unbridled passion that she returned eagerly enough. As her tongue slipped past his lips her hand strayed past the waistband of his boxers and he gave a low purr of approval. She took that as permission and grinned against his lips like a cat with cream and wrapped her hand around his already hard length. She drew her fingertips up over the silken skin. That drew an inarticulate sound of pleasure from him.

"Buffy." His voice sounded strained.

"Mm?" She did nothing more than tease his sensitive member with her soft hand until he thought he'd go mad from wanting her. He vaguely remembered something else he'd been ready to do…something that existed outside of his bedroom. His eyes strayed to the window in front of him to see the sun setting off in the distance. The sky was turning from the bright blue of day to the dulcet hues of twilight, bright pinks and oranges mingling with the darker blues of the oncoming night sky. Sunset, yes, that's what he'd forgotten! He pulled away from her body though it took a great deal of strength to do so.

"Buffy…patrolling? You were so adamant." He was breathing hard trying to will his body back into some semblance of order.

"I know." She pouted, reaching for him again. "But then you were up here and all sexy looking in your boxers and I just couldn't help myself." She pushed out her lower lip and raised her eyes up at him adorably. Rupert Giles thought he might die from the unbearable cuteness of it. She was even using her innocent voice, a little quieter and more childish than normal. Where Buffy could recognize any emotion her lover felt by the look in his eyes whether he admitted it or not, he could tell by the tone of her voice. Right now her tone said she wanted him and right now his eyes said he wanted her, too, but if they tumbled onto the bed they wouldn't rise again for a long time.

"Patrolling first?"

She sighed. "Sure." She didn't admit she was mildly horrified he hadn't thrown her to the bed and ravaged her to within an inch of her life. In her mind's eye it was the sexier and more fulfilling choice. She grumbled about being the chosen one while he dragged on his pair of jeans. By the time they were buttoned his body had relaxed enough to let go of her intoxicating affect on him. He could look at her again without wanting to pin her to the nearest wall or welcoming surface.

In most ways the Britishman felt every year of his life. He took pride in earning all forty six of them with all of the grace and dignity that one might expect from someone of his background and profession. However, when it came to loving Buffy and their intimate physical contact he felt like a randy schoolboy again, eager to devour every inch of her skin in carnal delight at any given moment. The dangerous part of this was that she knew it and frequently used it to her advantage whether he wanted her to or not and even despite his protests that it wasn't fair he never seemed to mind enough to stop her when she got it into her mind that she wanted him.

He picked up a cross and a stake from the downstairs standing wardrobe and slipped them into their appropriate places. She was wearing her own cross necklace and he knew she had her own weapons secreted on her body. Hell, her biggest weapon was her body. Still, he saw the bump from her pregnancy showing and felt a rather large pang of dread in the pit of his stomach. She was pulling open the door and he hurried to catch up to her. It was a short trip to the local cemetery and he was glad of it. The sooner there the sooner they could get home to safety.

"How has your patrolling been lately?" he asked her as they walked.

"It's been fine." She replied easily and he detected something she was holding back.

"Fine?" he queried, keeping his tone light.

"Well…" she hesitated.

"Yes?"

"It's no big. Probably just hormones but a few times it's felt like I'm off my game. Like this one vamp I fought a week ago. I knew I was aiming for his jawline but somehow I glanced off his ear. He barely blinked."

"Vampires don't tend to blink, love."

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Is that all? A missed hit or two?"

It really wasn't like her. She wasn't the most methodical of all the Slayers he'd ever heard of but she was a natural talent. He'd never seen someone with such innate skill and if she was missing blows enough to be nervous about it herself, he counted himself doubly worried. He put his arms around her shoulders as they passed through the wrought iron Sunnydale Greens gate.

"No…it's not all. I mean, don't freak out but I just don't feel like my hits are having the same effect they used to. I'm not weak but I just think I remember doing more damage. I don't know. I'm not sure.

He pulled her to a stop by grabbing onto her elbow. She turned, looking up at him with questioning eyes. "Buffy, why didn't you tell me about this sooner? Why are you so desperate to go patrolling when you're not sure you even can safely?"

"See?" she responded heatedly. "I knew you'd wig! I said it wasn't a big deal. It might even be in my imagination. I'm still winning!"

"What part of this am I not supposed to be upset, by, exactly? That you didn't come to me when you first suspected something was wrong? That you are, in fact, off your game? Or that you've continued to patrol even in these conditions without consulting me about a possible cause!"

He was over reacting and it didn't occur to him to realize it. He didn't realize he was yelling at her for something he was guilty of himself and he was being overly protective of her because of this dream. It just occurred to him to fear for her life and the life of the child. She took a step away from him and looked wounded. "Giles? What is your deal?"

"Are you kidding?" he asked.

She turned and ran off, away from him. He was quick to pursue her through the darkened graveyard. Of course, she was the Slayer and he a middle aged man. She was blessed with strength and speed to fight demons and vampires. He had knowledge and the ability to call up trivia at will. With the differences between it was amazing he kept her in sight for quite a while until he tripped over a low headstone and tumbled to the ground. By the time he got back to his feet she'd disappeared. His shin wasn't feeling spectacular and he cursed aloud before turning to limp back home. He felt foolish and sick at heart to imagine her out there without him now all because he couldn't tell her about his dream and what it said. When she returned to the flat he resolved to do just that.

Buffy was across town engaged in a fight with a new vampire. He looked younger than usual and was a bit sloppy in his fighting. Despite this, the Slayer found she was having a hard time actually beating him. It was like she said before to her lover: some of the hits were falling short of the mark and the others didn't seem as effective. They were still remarkably powerful hits but they didn't seem to go as far as they used to. She thought of her eighteenth birthday and a pang of fear swept through her. It was the same feeling of weakness and a lack of control over her own body.

The vampire seemed to notice that she wasn't performing as well as she ought to and took advantage of it. He swept her legs and brought her down, throwing himself on top of her with a savage growl of hunger. Buffy struggled, thrashing, and tried to get enough leverage to change the situation. As the vampire lowered himself down to take a taste she cried out in panic. She closed her eyes and braced herself for a bite that never came. Instead, the vampire poofed into dust on top of her. A hand was reaching out to her but it wasn't until she took it that she realized who it was.

"Spike." Her tone wasn't pleased.

"Sod all to you, too, Slayer." He responded, hauling her to her feet. He noticed the bump for the first time. "You're knocked up." He added in an incredulous voice.

"Yeah."

"Riley's?"

"He's been gone a while, Spike." She replied. He paused.

"I know it's not the nancy boy Xander….oh my God! Surely you're joking!" She pursed her lips as he laughed. "The Watcher?"

"It happens to be Giles', yes." She replied no more amused now than when she started.

"Watcher finally had himself a time, did he? Do you fancy you're in love with him?"

"I am in love with him." she responded stubbornly. "I always have been."

"You don't know what you want, Slayer. That's been your biggest weakness all along."

"Well, I want this baby and I want him and if you keep it up the next thing I'll want it a stake through your heart."

"As if you could."

"As if you could fight back." she responded pointedly. "Or did they finally get that chip out of your head?"

He growled a response and threw his hands up in the air. "This is a fine response for the man that saved your life no more than a minute or two ago."

"You're not a man. You may look like one but you're not."

He growled again, taking stock of her as she stood right next to him. "You can be a right bitch, Slayer." he muttered.

She hesitated. He was right and she was defensive and she really didn't want to admit that out loud. After a minute of silence between them she heaved a long sigh and looked up at him. "You're right. I'm sorry. Thank you for saving my life."

"I only did it so I can have the pleasure later, you know, once this chip is out of my head."

She cried out after he said that feeling like a fool for trying to see things his way and thinking he might be man-ish after all. She stalked away from him, stomping her way through the cemetery and she heard Spike following after her. He grabbed her elbow and she spun, throwing a blow to his head. He ducked easily, expecting some sort of retaliation and shied back a step or two.

"Listen. Let me walk you home, Buffy. Something's not quite right with you."

"What do you mean?"

"You and I both know you're not hitting 100%." He raised his hands. "You and I both know if you were you'd have landed that hit you just threw."

He was right and she made a motion for him to follow her. As they spoke they walked and she tolerated it with good humor and partly because she knew he was right though wild horses couldn't drag that admission from her. She wished it were anyone but him. Thankfully he kept his sarcastic British mouth shut and didn't torment her further. When they headed in the direction of the Watcher's flat and not in the direction of Rubello Drive Spike raised an eyebrow. She shrugged in response.

"What did you expect? We're lovers."

"Try not to remind me."

"You're welcome to walk away."

"No." he threw back in a deliberate tone. "I can't."

She stopped where she stood in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to look at him. That tone…there was something about it she couldn't put her finger on. Her hazel eyes glanced up to his and she arched an eyebrow back at him. He kept her gaze, leveling his own eyes with hers.

"What does that mean?" she asked softly.

"Tell me you think about it."

"About what?"

"We spent the night together, Buffy."

She was immediately bounced to the night some six months prior when she asked him to stay with her in an abandoned building in the wake of Riley's declaration that their relationship was permanently over. She wanted him close by because he was easy to have there. She used him for his cold comfort and didn't want to be reminded of it.

"I asked you to stay because you hated me. It was easier to be with you because I knew you were the one person in the world I could count on to loathe me."

"Buffy…"

"NO!" she protested. "Don't change. For God's sake, hate me! Please! Make your jokes and keep trying to kill me and please don't ever stop hating me."

"Slayer, I…" he trailed off.

"Please." She whimpered.

"I hate you." he responded in the most infinitely tender way she'd ever heard come from his lips, even in reference to Drusilla. He saw tears welling up in her eyes and knew how it would always be between them. Most of the time he didn't mind the distance. Most of the time he didn't mind the hatred. Right now, though, he minded both. He was ready for anything she'd do except for the one thing she actually did. She threw her arms around him and hugged him close.

"Thank you." she whispered in his ear. He growled, feeling her nearness too keenly to ignore. He wrapped his arms around her as well, resting his forehead on her shoulder. She didn't even shudder at the touch. For once he didn't feel like inserting a quick quip and he didn't imagine sinking his fangs into her very tempting throat. She was treating him like a man. More than that, if he read between the lines, she was treating his as a friend.

"You're welcome. Let's get you back to that Watcher of yours before you find yourself bitten."

She scoffed. "By you?"

"Why not by me? You've given me opportunity and motive enough."

"Neutered little puppy." She reminded and he smiled.

"Appreciate it if you wouldn't spread that around. Might ruin my reputation."

"As what? Kitten gambler or former government prisoner?" she teased. He tensed, quick to anger and then quick to let it go again.

"As a bloodthirsty killer and demon slayer."

"Right…"

The arrived at the flat and Buffy could see the fountain in the courtyard. She stopped and felt awkward. It was almost like the end of a date with him staring at her expectantly and her wanting to duck inside before further damage could be done. She blushed, feeling a new rush of foolishness and ducked away from him quickly before she turned back.

"Um, goodnight." She offered shyly.

"Get better Slayer." He returned. "You're no fun when you can't come out and play like a good girl."

She nodded and headed into the house to find a distraught lover on the couch with an icepack on his swollen shin. Her eyes widened in surprise as she rushed to him. She knelt, kissing his bruise and fussing over him as a proper wife would and for a while Giles indulged in the need and want for it. He even dared to imagine her as his wife though he knew they couldn't ever cross that line. When she saw the ugly purplish black splotch under his skin her breath caught in her throat.

"What happened?" she demanded, worried. He smiled at her, seeing a softer side to her personality.

"I tripped trying to follow you, a low lying tombstone. It's nothing, dearest."

"You should have…"

He cut her off before she could finish her statement. "I should have told you the truth. I over reacted."

"Told me the truth?" He cleared his throat.

"I saw Gorgolek in my dreams the other night." He denied her any sort of response before continuing. "He told me that if you carried this child to term you'll die. I didn't want to worry you, in your condition. Especially since it was just a dream and I have no reason to think it's nothing more than my subconscious fears."

"Do you really think that?"

"No."

"Alright, then, we have to start looking into the possibilties."

"You were saying you felt weak."

"How many other Slayers have given birth before me?"

"Only two. Nikki Wood in the seventies and Elizabeth Rosen in the early 1600's. Both births were male children, if I remember, and the Slayers died shortly after the births…within five to ten years."

"Not helping." She warned. He paused.

"I'm confident you and I will be up to the challenge of trying to raise this child between us."

"I want to be around to see it graduate, Giles."

"You will…You have something no other Slayer's ever had before…allies."

"And you." He looked at her tenderly and took her hand.

"And me. Until death you have me."

"Yours or mine?"

"Whichever comes first." He joked. "Six of one, half a dozen of the other."

"Even odds." She responded softly, turning the idea in her head.

"We need to look deeper into Slayer pregnancy to see if anyone else has experienced weakness or loss of ability while pregnant."

He nodded and moved to go to his bookcase. She stopped him and brought him back to her, holding him in her arms. He held her close, knowing she was likely nervous about this whole thing and all he wanted to do was comfort her.

"I won't let anything happen to you, my darling."

She sighed in his arms and stared out the window, thinking about the implications of what he said. She finally admitted to herself something she didn't want to realize. She was getting weaker. Less focused. This dream just seemed to come in and prove what she knew all along: this baby was affecting her more deeply than she knew. She wasn't sure but it almost seemed too good to be true but she couldn't tell her lover that. He was too excited about being a father. Instead as her effort to protect him she kept silent about her fears.


	3. Roped In

"I feel sluggish." Buffy groused, sliding down on the couch to lay with her belly up in the air. She felt big and awkward and the rest of the gang was gathered around buried in the books. Giles had taken to researching former Slayer mothers seriously and Buffy still hadn't told him about her brush with death and her moonlit rescue by a certain platinum vampire. She also neglected to tell him that she was forming a sort of bizarre friendship with her rescuer that revolved around his unspoken love and professed hatred of her. So long as he didn't come around the house she was alright and didn't feel very guilty about keeping her secrets. Thankfully, he had little to no reason to come by the house.

She hadn't been patrolling since the night he saved her life but the gang did sweeps at night and claimed he was becoming her eager replacement, having pent up rage he could only spend fighting demons and the undead. It was convenient and both men, Spike and Giles, slept better knowing it. A week had passed since that night and she knew she was at the point in her pregnancy where she was going to swell quickly. She already felt a good deal bigger and wasn't used to lugging around the extra bulk. She knew she wasn't very big yet, the growth was still small enough to fit in her pants but when she thought about it the last two weeks made her bump considerably bigger. The baby was growing.

Willow looked up from her volume of the Watcher's Diary for Elizabeth Rosen. She was a Slayer at the turn of the 17th century in middle France. Willow was muddling through, translating the French by memory. Giles was reading the only other volume across the room. Elizabeth became pregnant at sixteen and gave birth shortly after her seventeenth birthday. She actually was married and tried to have a normal life for the time. She gave birth to a son, John Rosen, and died when the boy was three. She was drained by a vampire called Malthius who, in turn, was killed by her Watcher, Luke.

"There's nothing in here about weakness surrounding a Slayer pregnancy." Willow concluded, closing the book. Giles looked up from his own volume and nodded. The redhead continued. "It says she went patrolling up to the time she gave birth and then was up afterward a week later. That was pretty unheard of in that time period, what with the lack of medical knowledge."

"What about Nikki Wood?"

Xander had those diaries with Tara and they were clustered around the coffee table with Willow. Xander shook his head. "Whole lotta nothin, Buff. Nikki Wood gave birth to a boy, Robin, in the seventies and died at the hands of a vampire when the boy was six. His Watcher took him in after that and the diaries stop cause the new Slayer was called."

"No weakness?"

"Nope."

"No failing instincts?"

"No, nothing."

The blond cried out in frustration, burying her face in a throw pillow. Her friends watched with worried expressions. Giles watched from his place in the corner and moved by her side to put what he hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Darling?" He received no response but stayed with her nonetheless. He was worried not just for her sake but for the baby's as well. Obviously there was something wrong. She took the pillow and tossed it hard across the room. Xander turned his head just in time to get the thing square in the face and barely flinched. The blond looked at him like she expected a reaction. When he didn't give one she only seemed disappointed.

"I'm getting weaker."

"We'll set it right." The Watcher assured her.

"Giles...I don't know how to feel about this."

"Shhh...darling. We'll set it right. Whatever it is, we'll fix it. There's no need to worry."

Of course, what he meant to say was that he was doing all the worrying for them both but somehow didn't think she'd accept that as easily. He couldn't imagine anything to contribute to this illness.

"In all other ways do you feel healthy?" he asked her, running his hand lightly over her forehead. Silly, of course, since she tended to keep her strength even when she was sick. She glanced at him and saw the emotions there and struggled to sitting. Her belly was really getting in the way now.

"Yeah, fit as a fiddle. I don't even sneeze."

"Maybe we shouldn't rule out something magical? A demonic infection?" Willow was studying her best friend and the Watcher with concern. "What have you come up against?"

"Nothing, Will. I haven't been hurt!" she paused, thinking of almost being killed again and it was just enough for her lover to catch on. "But I can't rule out magic. That can be done without me knowing, right?"

"Buffy?" he queried softly. "What aren't you telling me?"

She paused, twisting a ring around her finger as a nervous habit. Anyone who knew her, and they all did, knew this was a bad sign. She took a deep breath, debating what to do. Now that she'd been caught it seemed only natural to tell them what happened but a large part of her resisted and she wasn't sure why. She had nothing to hide by it and it would only make Giles worry. They'd been down that path before with the lying and the worrying and she wasn't sure which was worse yet.

"Last week when you got hurt, Giles I….I was alone and almost got bitten. I might have died if Spike hadn't staked the vamp. I haven't been able to hurt anything since. I feel like I did on my eighteenth birthday when you were drugging me."

"You mean to say you feel completely powerless?" Her other half looked at her in shock.

"Yeah. I'm a normal girl again. If I ever said it's what I wanted, I take it back."

The others looked at her quietly, feeling awkward. Giles only stared in horror at her, what she'd just confessed shocking him. He never much cared for the sarcastic and altogether dangerous platinum vampire but now he had a reason to. He owed his heart's happiness and the life of the woman he loved to him. That idea made him shudder. Even more than that he wondered why she felt the need to lie to him and keep secrets. The others seemed to sense the tension growing and excused themselves very quickly. Once they left he closed the door behind them and turned back to Buffy. She hadn't moved yet, much less looked at him. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Why did you lie to me?" he asked her, coming close again.

"I didn't lie…I just didn't share. I thought an over share would make you worry."

"And finding out this way is better?"

"No! Not better…but I was hoping I wouldn't have to tell you."

"That is tantamount to lying, Buffy." He chided.

"And this is different to not sharing your dream how?" she replied. He paused, frowned.

"Pot." He conceded.

"Kettle." She answered. He smiled.

"Touché. I'm sorry, dearest."

She shrugged and rose to standing, feeling the baby weight and wondering what it would be like to carry the child as a Slayer. It was amazing what difference two weeks could make in the grand scheme of things. From what she could remember, looking back, it seemed like a very slow decent. Like a hike down a low grade hill. You don't realize how high up you were until you're at the bottom looking up. Sure the decline was small and slow but it was constant and brought her to this point. Now, for the first time, she was beginning to feel very afraid. Her lover, sensing this change, knelt by her side and gathered her in his arms.

There was nothing to say between them. Of course they'd look into possible causes. Of course they'd explore every possibility. There was no reason to say that he was worried and they'd try everything they could think of. She'd heard it before and would likely hear it again so neither of them spoke as he held her. She slipped into sleep sometime while in his arms and he laid her on the couch to nap.

_The night was dark and she was walking through the cemetery alone, hunting something she could feel but could not see. Her blond hair rippled even in the windless night and she had only a stake in hand against the creature she knew she faced. A sound caught her attention from the left and she turned her head. Her head pounded in her chest and she felt weak. She knew she was too weak to fight and yet here she was trying. _

_She looked off to where the cemetery faded into the trees at the back of the property and heard nothing further. Her eyes scanned the distance and saw no movement. There was nothing there. When she looked back she saw Spike standing in front of her, uncomfortably close and she took a step back stumbling a little as she did. He stared at her with his piercing eyes and came close again. They sparkled as his arms slipped around her waist and her pulse quickened again for another very good reason. He reminded her of Ripper in this way, able to make her squirm from fear and desire. When she gave a small sound of dismay he smiled wickedly and his face contorted into that of the demon. She tried to pull away. _

"_Slayer can't come out to play anymore." He purred, moving his mouth from her shoulder to her neck barely brushing the flesh. He sniffed her like a dog in heat, holding her close to his body as she trembled. He continued in a growl, roughly pulling her body ever closer to his. "The Slayer went and gave her body up to the Big Bad and it wasn't me. Such a shame."_

_Her eyes widened as the demon's hand slid down to her stomach and smoothed over the bump there. She heard laughter ringing in the air – male laughter. Human laughter. British laughter? It wasn't the vampire in front of her laughing. Spike's demonic visage hovered close and took her lips, savagely raping her mouth in a predatory fashion. He was showing his dominion over her body and she couldn't even push him away. Her weakness sickened her as did his kiss. When he released her there was blood dripping from his lips. He smirked and touched his fingers to the mess and looked at his bloody hand. He let her go, ripping her shirt down the middle and smeared the blood over her pregnant belly. _

"_This child will destroy you. Destroy us all."_

She woke with a start and Giles was by her side in an instant. He petted her hair, listening to her whimper in the aftermath of horror. For a long while she didn't speak to him about what she saw and he knew enough not to press her. She had her face buried in his chest and her hands pressed to her stomach. She was quaking in fear. He continued to run his hand up and down her back making soothing shushing noises. When she quieted at long last he drew her face up to look at him.

"What happened, darling?"

She told him the dream in excruciating detail. Nothing escaped her telling: not how she felt, how it looked, and special detail went into what happened. He listened patiently, taking it all in with a growing sense of horror himself. He knew enough to know Spike was only a representative in the dream, not the source of alarm despite how much he really didn't like the demon. The laughter, too, caught his attention. She mentioned it might be British. Spikes? She'd said his mouth wasn't moving though dreams rarely were polite enough to make sense. The bloody kiss and the blood smeared over her womb puzzled him.

They were sitting side by side. She hadn't moved since waking from her dream except to sit upright. He sat with her a while after the telling of the dream turning the events over in his head. The intention was clear enough – they were being told her child was evil. He couldn't believe it. That was a child from the womb of a hero and from his own loins. How could it destroy the world? The paternity proved it. The child was his.

Wasn't it?

He couldn't sit there wondering and made to gather her in his arms. He pulled her from the couch and hugged her. She gave a whimper of what he supposed was discomfort from behind his closed eyes. She slackened in his arms and slumped and he barely had enough time to cushion her fall. It was then he noticed the blood staining his couch from where she was sitting and the blood staining her loose pants. Still more horror piled into his senses as he lay her down.

"Giles?" she sounded weak. He steeled his resolve not to worry her overly much.

"Lie still, love. We need to get you to a doctor. You'll be fine." He was panicking inside and tried to keep it from showing in his face, especially in his eyes. She passed out a moment later and he didn't have to hide his panic anymore. He rushed to the phone and dialed an ambulance. He explained the problem and urged them to hurry. An impersonal voice tried to assure him help was on the way but he slammed down the phone without feeling the assurance.

"Buffy, hang on darling. Things will be alright. Our baby is good and healthy and we'll love it more than anything else in the world."


	4. The Tangled Web We Weave

**Ok, ok. I admit it. I'm being slow to update. My bad. Everything's going to pick up in the next chapter and likely won't stop until the end of book 2 so hopefully I'll be faster to update and keep you on the edge of your seat. Reader beware!**

**Also, I love my commenters. You guys keep pushing me to keep going and I love it!**

They didn't let him accompany Buffy past the large set of double doors leading down a stark white corridor. His lover hated hospitals. He could hardly blame her for that and wanted to be by her side. She'd continued to bleed in the ambulance on the way to the hospital and it was all he could do to control the shaking in his voice while he whispered small phrases of comfort to her unconscious form. He banged the side of his fist against the wall, tempted to punch his way through it but was too staunchly practical to do that.

Giles paced. He called the others to tell them of the situation. He paced. They arrived and showered him with comfort and affection and still he paced. There was nothing in the colorful waiting room that made him feel hopeful or chipper. Nothing in the touches of his friends made him forget his worry. He filled out paperwork and paced. He tried sitting down a few times but only managed to sit for a moment before finding himself too anxious to stay as he was. The others didn't know what to do with him.

"Mr. Giles?"

He immediately left off his constant movement, completely uncharacteristic for the usually calm Britishman. He was the rock in the hard place, the anchor in stormy seas. Now he was drifting like a twig with the river's current. None of the others could try and feel comfortable themselves when their mentor couldn't bring himself to stop worrying. It was as if his fear validated theirs.

The doctor that called out his name was an older gentleman. His brown skin was paled from a lack of sunlight, as if he spent most of his time indoors. Usually in Southern California you develop a tan just by virtue of where you are. It wasn't so with him. His hair was streaked with white and cut close to the scalp with the balding circle of skin in the middle shining. He held a clip board and there was blood on the cuffs of his white lab coat. He sighed at the Watcher approached and took him aside.

"You're the one that came in with Buffy Summers?" The other man nodded quickly, bursting out before he could remind himself to relax and practice patience.

"How is she?" he paused. "And the baby?"

The old doctor smiled. "Your daughter and the baby are fine. Sometimes in the later months the body realizes it's stored more than it needs to nourish the child. She'll be shedding the excess for a few days, like a period. If she starts to feel pain with the bleeding, that's when she ought to come back in. All in all, she's remarkably healthy and the pregnancy is strong. You'll be a grandfather yet, sir, don't worry."

"Why did she faint? She's not prone to such things."

"Pregnancy changes many hormones. It was likely shock that did it. It's nothing to worry about."

He was so relieved he ignored the comments about being her father and having a grandchild. It didn't matter what people thought so long as he knew she was alright and the baby was growing in normal progress. He almost hugged the doctor, a wide grin breaking out over his features. He knew the others were waiting for news and turned to flash them the same pleased smile. It reassured them in a way his panic had not. The doctor joined in on the smiling.

"Can I see her?" he asked immediately upon recovering his mental capabilities. The doctor nodded. "One at a time but you can see her. Down the hall to the right. Room 408. I must insist you do and say nothing to stress her."

Giles shook the man's hand and turned back to the Scoobies, his family. They rushed him for several long hugs and there was a ton of rejoicing. He explained things to them briefly and then told them they could all see her one at a time before visiting hours were over. Of course, he was elected to go first, being that this was his lover and child. He took the privilege and gave them all one last hug before he moved down the hall.

He paused in her doorway, looking at her resting in her bed. She was hooked up to a couple monitors, her belly exposed to air with its own set of wires. She turned her head, as if she felt his presence more than heard him coming. He grinned, leaning in the doorway. She offered her own unsure smile and he came into the room.

"Giles." She sighed, happy to have him near again.

"Darling." He responded, equally as tender with her. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "You and the baby are just fine. Your body is trimming the fat, so to speak. We've no need to fear so long as you're in no pain."

"Really?" She had her hopeful eyes. He liked them.

"Really. You'll continue to bleed off and on from what I understand but there's no danger for you or the baby. I trust your body to know what's best, darling. You've always trusted yourself before. I see no reason why you shouldn't now."

"Maybe because my body won't respond to me like it used to?"

"Nonsense. It's a passing effect of pregnancy. You'll be right again soon enough."

She nodded and he felt some modicum of relief at easing her tension. He hugged her, being more gentle than usual. She noticed and tried not to read into it. He sat on the edge of her bed and held her hand; the other was pressed to their child. They sat in silence and that was ok for the both of them. She leaned up and kissed him, her lips lingering against his for a few moments.

"You're my strength." She admitted fondly. "You always have been."

"Glad to be." He responded. "Shall I send in one of the others? Willow and Xander were both quite worried about you."

Buffy nodded, letting their visit be brief. There was really nothing else to be said, they knew each other too well. He leaned down and kissed her for a long moment before pulling away. "I love you, Buffy Summers." He told her softly. She smiled at him in response. "I love you, too, Giles."

As he headed back to the others there were two things he found strange. The first being that she still clung to his last name instead of transitioning to his first as their relationship changed. The second was that he kept being mistaken for her father without anyone asking what his relationship with her was. He could understand the mistake for, indeed, he was more than twice her age but it didn't make it any easier to bear. He knew their love wasn't going to be easy or accepted by anyone, least of all the Council if they ever got wind of what they were together which was only a matter of time since one Slayer was in jail and the other was pregnant.

How had he managed to muck up his life so much just by falling in love? It baffled the mind to think about it.

He appeared in the waiting room and Willow graciously gave visitation rights to Xander first, as she always tended to do. Giles finally sat down for a while and she came to sit beside him. He cleared his throat, trying to be the mentor they thought of him as. She didn't put his arm around her but he did bring up a topic of conversation based on something she'd confided in him.

"So how goes with this girlfriend of yours?"

The redhead blushed, her hair matching her cheeks. "She's amazing, Giles. I really like her! We do everything together."

"When am I going to get a chance to meet this girl?"

"It's Tara, Giles." She said, surprised that he hadn't realized it before. "Me and Tara."

"Oh!" he started in surprise, feeling foolish for not realizing that Tara was more than a handy witch and friend.

She smiled and leaned a head on his shoulder. "I wish she was here now."

He nodded though she didn't see it and sat back in his chair. He was calmer now that he knew Buffy was going to be alright but something still bothered him about the whole situation. This pregnancy…he truly believed she was weaker because of it and while they couldn't find any precedent he couldn't shake that all of it stemmed from the child she was carrying – his child.

He moved to the front desk and requested to speak to the doctor familiar with her case again. Soon enough the man was standing in front of him and looking as though he was wondering why he was summoned. "When can I take her home, please, doctor?" he asked softly.

"I should like to keep her in observation overnight. I'm sure if everything is alright we can release her tomorrow by noon."

"Brilliant! Thank you, doctor." The Watcher turned to go back to Willow and realized that Xander and Willow had traded places while his back was turned.

"Mr. Giles?" The doctor reached out and grabbed him by the elbow to prevent him from leaving. "Buffy should probably take it easy for the rest of this pregnancy. While what her body is going through is completely normal we don't want to tempt fate, do we?"

The irony of his words wasn't lost on the Britishman. Tempt fate, indeed. Still, he nodded and played the dutiful boyfriend, assuring the doctor he'd do everything in his power to make sure the girl stayed healthy. More bad news. He went to Xander and excused himself from the hospital, citing some ridiculous reason he was certain the boy would know for a lie. When Xander didn't try to stop him, Giles thanked his lucky stars and went back home to his flat. He tore it apart looking for what he needed.

He went to his cupboard of magical supplies. He hadn't used it in a while and when he noticed some of the glass bottles were knocked over he didn't think much of it. They were in Southern California, after all, and small earthquakes weren't all that uncommon. Not to mention the last person in the cabinet had been Willow and might have knocked things over in her hurry. It was an intense situation, if he recalled.

He pulled ingredients out of the cabinet, appalled that he was even considering something as risky as this. It was getting later in the day and he lit candles at different points in the living room to create the compass he needed. Using the different ingredients he spread the mixture across the clay bowl and incanted a few words. Using a ceremonial dagger he had hidden away he cut the flat of his hand and dripped the blood into the bowl. The entire thing exploded in colored smoke and bright sparks of light. He almost fell backward by it.

Giles coughed, sputtering and waving his hands to get the smoke away so he could see. His glasses were askew and his hair looked like it had been dried by an industrial dryer. When the smoke cleared, however, he noticed that he wasn't alone. Despite the initial reaction to be afraid, the Watcher calmed himself to stand and address the visitor.

"Gorgolek."

The brown demon seemed to be looking at himself in wonder, probably disconcerted to be in solid flesh again. Giles didn't care. He knew it was risky to bring a demon back from the dead to commune with it but he felt he had no other choice. The demon was trapped, anyway, inside the circle of candles he'd created. The demon didn't seem interested in the Watcher just now and patiently the man waited for the demon to come to terms with its current, if not permanent, state of being.

"Gorgolek." He repeated, trying to gain the creature's attention. The demon turned its watery yellow eyes his way and nodded.

"I underestimated you, Son of Chaos. Why have you summoned me here?"

"Well, I need to, ah, talk to you."

"Talk? What in this world would convince me to talk to you, Rupert Giles? Would you give me my life back?"

"I wish I could. As long as you stay within the circle you'll be solid flesh. If you should leave or it should break, I'm afraid you'll go back to where you came from."

"There is no incentive for me to talk to you." the demon responded sadly. The Britishman hung his head. There was so much to talk about and he was near desperate to find the answers to the questions buzzing around in his head. He couldn't enter the circle without making himself vulnerable to the demon and yet, despite his personal safety, he did just that.

"I place my life in your hands. Just a few questions. It's all I ask, Gorgolek. I realize I might have gone mad summoning you in the first place but I needed to know. Was it you in my dreams two nights ago or simply my own subconscious fears?"

"Ah, child, you ask questions to which you already know the answers."

"It was you, then? How do you know this child will kill her?"

"I knew the child the moment it came to be. It was your future and mine by rights. I knew what it was and where it came from."

"Where did it come from?"

The demon laughed, the sound rumbled and echoed throughout the small living room. The room seemed to small to contain it all. When the laughter subsided the demon looked at his mortal companion and smiled. "It came from your loins, where all mortal children spring."

"Then how can it kill her? I can't imagine she's not strong enough to survive the birth." The man looked distraught.

"You ask too much, Rupert Giles and your life is not worth the answers."

The Watcher crossed the room angrily, stomping and grabbed the demon by its broad shoulders. "Now you listen here." He growled, trying to shake the cumbersome thing without much success. The demon took a step back and away from the Watcher. Instantly upon the circle being broken the demon disintegrated into nothingness and the candles extinguished themselves leaving the man in the dark, all alone, and quite upset by the lack of answers he thought he'd find.

"Serves me right for trusting a demon." He chided, moving to clean his apartment. All at once he froze and looked in the bottle in his hand. He was frustrated, angry, and if he really stopped to think about it, he was scared of losing the two things in his life that made the most sense, both of which he never dared dream he could have. He looked at the empty vial in his hand and flung it across the room with a roar. It splintered against the wall and fell to the wooden floor with small tinkling sounds. He grimace, being barefoot, and wished he'd thought better of his rash decisions.

"Bugger me!" he muttered, going to find a broom. There weren't any other avenues of information to use now and he knew it. The only thing he could try to do now was keep Buffy and his child, safe.


	5. The Thickening Ropes

Two and a half months came and went quickly and still Buffy grew weaker. She grew bigger, but weaker. The bleeding lessened after just a week and didn't return and by the time she reached the end of her eighth month she felt large and mostly useless. Xander was even opening things for her and showing off his manly lack of muscles to do it. Her coordination didn't improve but it didn't seem to lessen. She had all the instincts but didn't have the fire to back them up any longer. No matter what they tried no one could find an explanation for it and Giles didn't dare risk magic on her so close to full term.

She was used to the bloating and feeling big as a house. She was used to strange people coming up and trying to touch her pregnant belly before the daggers in her eyes told them it was at their own peril. She was even used to having Giles wait on her hand and foot and having a permanent escort no matter where she went whether it was Spike, Giles, or all of the Scoobies. The longest amount of time she had to herself was in the shower and that was not nearly long enough by her count. Even Giles was being more affectionate all the time, touching and kissing her at random intervals, rejoicing in the chance to do something he'd always harbored a secret dream to do.

Her mother even seemed to come around once she saw her daughter swollen to nine months pregnant and not quite glowing. This was, after all, her only daughter and her first chance at being a grandmother. No matter who the father was, though she still didn't approve of the relationship, she promised to love the child. As the due date came closer and closer it seemed like life came to a point of blissful calm and for that Buffy was thankful and secretly wigged. Life was perfect but in her experience life wasn't supposed to be perfect and about the time it looked that way was about the time to start running for the hills.

Her lover was at the store buying things for the house when there was a knock at the door. She opened it and found Spike on her doorstep. In the past two months he'd become her necessary inconvenience, patrolling on her behalf and coming around to report the happenings of the night. He served as protector and escort though she never quite figured out why. Oh, she knew in the back of her mind and the bottom of her heart but she couldn't admit that out loud. Instead, she simply chose to tell herself that she couldn't figure out why he volunteered and why everyone seemed ok with his offer. Tonight, though, he was not a welcome sight.

She was in a grumpy mood, having had back pains for the last three days. She invited him in anyway, and he sat on the couch, picking up the book she'd just put down and looking at it with incredulous eyes. He held it up for her, showing his distaste of her reading material with his arched eyebrow and his amused expression. He put it back down and turned to her in the kitchen, pouring herself the tea she'd been making. While not her favorite beverage still she'd learned to appreciate it while living with the Britishman and it was one of the few things that she could have while pregnant, so long as it had no caffeine.

"What to expect when you're expecting." the vampire teased, citing the title of the book. "Doesn't that beat all? What's next, how to slay vampires and change a diaper?"

She sighed and pulled the book away protectively. Giles bought her the book shortly after her trip to the hospital to head off any concerns that might be coming their way as first time parents. Though older and wiser than her by far the Watcher was not prepared and was no more equipped to know what to expect than she was. It was a teaching tool he told himself and they spent some evenings inside reading to each other and pointing out interesting facts about the changes she was going through and what the external affect would be. He was a gallant lover, going for midnight runs to get her favorite ice cream or dealing with her sometimes violent mood swings (though thanks to her weakness that wasn't nearly as dangerous as it could have been). When she demanded attention, he gave it to her as attentive as a slave. She didn't say it, to jeopardize the domestic bliss, but she missed him challenging her, demanding she give more when she wanted to be lazy or sluggish. Whether she liked to admit it or not she'd been finding that aspect elsewhere in the man currently occupying her couch.

"Why is it you're here, Spike?" she asked, coming to sit across from him in the only plush chair in the room. The plush back was important because her own was killing her these days. She'd had a lot of time to consider the notion and if she had to think about it carrying a baby in front wouldn't have been her idea. It's an awkward place to carry extra weight and seems to throw everything else out of whack. She tried to shift in her chair to stretch the aching muscles in her back, stiff from holding the extra weight up and being stuck in the same position for extended periods of time because that was the only way she could sit and be remotely comfortable. The platinum vampire got up and walked to where she was without a word and slid his cold hands down her back. He slipped the back hem of her shirt up and smoothed his hands over her skin, getting a feel for the tense knots just beneath the surface. She moaned, wriggling in her chair. It felt like heaven.

He continued his attentions, pushing his hands lower and putting more pressure onto the muscles to relax them. He kneaded the skin expertly, his deft fingers working with the natural grain of the muscles to sooth each ache and light each bundle of nerves on fire. She slumped forward, quickly becoming a blond puddle of goo. She'd forgotten her question and only concentrated on the heated sensation of his hands working up and down her back and along her spine. She knew those hands to be capable of death and destruction but this? Never. Wouldn't have crossed her mind in a million years. She moaned with each knot released and each section of her back relaxed and soothed into a pain free state of being. Indeed, what he was doing even felt good, better than sex in its own way right now.

She knew all about the discomforts of having sex so close to her due date. She and Giles had tried a few times, reading that it was good for the baby and might induce labor but the times they tried it ended up being painful or awkward for one or both of them so they quickly gave up the idea and decided that if the baby was going to come it would do it on its own. While Giles made clear his continuing affection for her and constantly reminded her of how beautiful she was despite feeling cumbersome, he was missing all of the fire that had drawn her to him. Even when she turned Ripper down, she liked him. She liked how he understood her.

Ripper understood pain wasn't something she liked, it was something she craved. Being a Slayer made pain a part of her life, infusing it into her deepest being. Whether she loved it or whether she cursed it, she knew pain and what it could do and how to deliver it over to others. She knew she deserved to feel it and have it around her like a companion. The only time she felt at peace was when that pain was buried inside of her, inflicting on her new torments. The pain only made her push harder. She didn't think anyone understood that about her. How could they? Her blood didn't run in their veins and danger didn't call to them like a lover on a nightly basis. She struggled to try to have a normal life because she knew she wasn't a normal girl. Once the call came and she was chosen she had to redefine herself.

Buffy Summers: high schooler and demon killer. Thrill seeker. Masochist. Sadist.

The only two beings that understood her need for death and danger were her lover's other half and the vampire standing behind her. She strived for a normal life and normal love but she knew she didn't have it. She loved Angel and knew he loved her but he never saw her like the predator behind her. As sick as it was to admit the demon Angelus understood her inner being better than the soulful puppy he'd been. She liked him because he was dangerous, because he understood pain and death even if he didn't understand its influence in her life. She thought he understood her but during their time apart she knew that wasn't true.

And Riley, for all of his military training and defense tactics didn't understand the first thing about the kill or the desire that could drive someone to hunt their prey and move in for that crucial moment. He could kill, sure, but he was more about following orders. Buffy's relationship with authority was touchy at best and in the end she had to realize she didn't love Riley because he couldn't give her what she needed. He was a good guy and she admired him but he didn't have the danger she wanted and he didn't understand her fascination with it.

And Giles, for all his loving gentility and grace was fast becoming too attentive and too generous for her tastes. She knew she loved him, really loved him, but she was getting bored. They were almost a year into their new relationship with a child on the way and she could only think about things going back to the way they were when she was allowed to pursue her own path no matter how self destructive she could tend to be. When it came down to it she always did the right thing and everyone could count on her for that.

The vampire kneaded her back until his hands could no longer detect the knots under the skin and he could hear that her heart had slowed to a relaxed pace. She moaned the whole while like he was her lover, touching her body to heat her blood to arousal. Only then did he take his touch away and she finally opened her eyes, whimpering in protest. She was breathing hard as she sat up, feeling more limber and relaxed than she had been in a long time.

"That was amazing." She admitted softly. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"You pick up things here and there." He responded and she noticed the vague answer. She tried not to let it bother her.

"Thank you. I feel good." She admitted. She didn't add that she'd been letting her mind wander while he massaged her and those thoughts had given her a very distinct reaction. She felt the warm wetness between her legs and squirmed. He looked at her, trying to smile. The time they'd just spent together was surprisingly intimate for being innocent. Well, mostly innocent. He didn't know it wasn't all innocent anyway. He failed in giving her a smile, it came out as something shy and awkward which she wasn't used to coming from him.

"What is this?" she asked him suddenly, looking confused herself.

"What's what?"

"This." She paused, motioning with her hand between them. "Us."

"There's an us?"

"I didn't think so but now I'm not so sure."

"Is that a compliment?"

"More like a reason to wig."

"Right."

She turned away from him, pacing a few steps away. She couldn't deny she was attracted to him, the darkness inside of him. If not for the chip he could easily take her and kill her at anytime and that thought alone made her want to move toward him rather than away. He followed after her, grabbing her hand to spin her to face him. He gave her a hard look, his blue eyes digging into her, as if he could somehow look through her body. She gasped, unable to resist what he moved her to do. She was defenseless and finally knew what it meant to be helpless in the face of danger for the first time. She liked it.

He seemed to have no interest in doing anything other than staring at her for a long while. He had her by her arms, pulling her up close to him with his fingers digging into her flesh so hard it hurt. She whimpered but didn't try to pull away. "Giles will be back any minute." She told him, sounding unconvincing.

"Are you afraid?" he asked, his primal instincts kicking in. He delighted in the sound of her heart racing in her chest and the smell of fear radiating off of her in waves. Not to mention another smell, harder to detect than fear but sweeter smelling to his senses. With a sense of understanding newly dawning he grinned, showing his fangs. "You like this." He accused more of a statement of fact than a question. He brought his nose up to her neck and inhaled her beautiful mixed fragrance in one long intake. She was reminded of her dream and squirmed harder, but futilely.

"No! Let me go, Spike."

"You do." He responded savagely, pulling her up to look him in his eyes. "Admit it." He commanded and she shook her head in false denial.

"Admit it!" he commanded again, stronger this time. He growled and pulled her body roughly against his. For once his chip didn't go off because he wasn't intending to hurt her. He wanted to frighten her, not hurt her. She looked at him, hazel eyes shining as if she'd done something that made her feel ashamed.

"Fine!" she declared at last. "I admit it. I like it when you're close to me. I like when you do this…to me."

His eyes shined his approval and he dragged her mouth up to his, heedless of the belly between them or the Watcher that would stake him sooner than look at him if he ever caught wind of what was happening. She didn't resist. She didn't really want to try. She knew she should and felt the sting of knowing she was betraying Giles but for the moment she didn't care. She sank against him and he let her go, sliding his arms around her back and hauling her body up against him again. She slid her arms around his neck and moaned before finally managing to come to her senses.

"Have you gone insane?" she asked, wrenching herself away from his strong body. She looked at him with accusing eyes, but didn't move to retaliate physically. "I'm in love with Giles and I'm carrying his baby! You can't just walk in here and kiss me!"

"Oh. And I suppose that wasn't you responding to the kiss, now was it? You wanted me to, Buffy. You were practically begging for it. Are you going to deny how wet you are for me?"

Buffy paused, stunned. It was a low blow, even for him. What was worse was that she couldn't deny it or argue it away and he knew it. Sure, it started with his massage, his hands on her skin, but it continued with his kiss. All of his danger called to her and they both knew it. They could both feel it. It was palpable in the air around them so thick you could reach out and touch it.

"Bollocks to you, Buffy! If you ever had a clue about what you wanted the entire bloody world would end. You say you're in love with the Watcher but the devil in you responds to the beast in me and we sizzle together. Buffy, we practically burn! I don't know what that says and I don't know if it's got much to do with feeling but I know I want you worse than I've ever wanted anything in my entire existence."

"God Damn It!" she burst out, looking at him. "What happened to hating me, Spike? What happened to simple? To not complicated? You think I'm supposed to feel this heat between us and turn away from the one man in my life that makes the most sense? I won't do that. I can't. Whatever it is I never lost sight of what's real. I hate you, Spike. I _hate_ you! You're an unclean thing. You're not alive. Your heart doesn't beat and it certainly can't love me."

"STOP IT!" he roared, advancing. His anger was bordering on boiling but he didn't have a chance to do anything before she was doubled over in pain. Immediately his anger dissipated, and he put his hands on her, trying to stand her upright again. "Love, what's wrong?"

"There's a pain. It's sharper than before." She placed her hand over his on her side, pressing it in. He felt the baby kicking against it and felt something lighter than he'd felt in the last hundred or so years. It was incredible. For a shining moment it was as if the demon truly vanished inside of him and he was a man again. Of course, it only lasted a moment before the beast reasserted itself. He was still concerned for her though.

"What can I do?" he asked and she stared at him.

"Call the ambulance. My water just broke."

Sure enough there was water all over the floor, dripping down her legs to soak the rug. He rushed off to do just that. "Come. She's in labor." he paused. "I don't know you bloody ponce just get someone here that does!" he gave an address and slammed the phone down. He rushed back to her, finding her sitting and moaning with pain this time.

"It'll be ok, pet."

She turned her panicked hazel eyes his way and groaned again. "Where the hell is Giles?"

Meanwhile, Giles was exiting the grocery store with a pint of her favorite ice cream and a few other things they needed for the house. He saw his car in the parking lot, the small thing Buffy loved to make fun of. He thought nothing strange of seeing the mostly empty parking lot or the quiet of the darkened part of town. The next thing he knew there was nothing but darkness. When he woke he was tied to a chair, stiff and tied at the arms and feet. He groaned, his head lolling to the side and there was a throbbing pain in his temples. He thought his eyes might explode.

"Careful, Ripper. You don't want to try to move too soon. That drug wreaks havoc on the senses. The event will be over soon."

"What event?" his voice was broken and uneasy, uncharacteristically slurred.

"The birth of your child. Though it didn't need to be your child. You were simply...convenient."

That voice. It sounded so silken and sure of itself. He hated it and he couldn't place it with his mind clouded by fog. His captor wasn't being polite enough to come out of the shadows. He tried to keep the person talking, trying to bring more details into light.

"Why am I unnecessary?" he asked but the speaker seemed unconcerned with answering his questions. Instead he felt his head jerked back and he was staring into familiar eyes.

"Ethan."


	6. Ensnaring the Rabbit

Buffy screamed in the ambulance, riding with Spike toward the hospital. The contractions were coming quick and hard, one on top of the other. She held the vampire's hand as the EMTs worked on her, trying to keep her comfortable. Spike smoothed his free hand over her forehead. When she squeezed his hand during her contractions he was thankful she wasn't at full strength. His blue eyes watched her pretty face contorting in pain. He let a smile of affection pull at his lips.

"You're tough as a nut. This is nothing…you're doin' fine."

The blond panted and started to sweat, her body shaking with pain and effort. She felt herself getting weaker the further into the contractions. It scared her and she wished with all her might that her lover was there to be with her in her time of need. She made do with Spike's cold hands and soft words. She pretended that things were fine between them. She needed normal.

"When we get to the hospital, call Willow and Xander." She told him and for once he didn't argue with an order given.

"Alright."

They wheeled her inside, immediately taking her upstairs to the maternity ward. They left Spike downstairs to wait since he wasn't the father or family. Spike did as he was told and called the Scoobies who, if they wondered why their friend was in his company, didn't say much about the situation. They only promised they'd be on their way and would get there soon.

Willow arrived first, being closer to the hospital since she roomed at the university. She caught sight of the platinum vampire and stopped him. "Where's Giles?" she asked. He shrugged in response. That didn't reassure the redhead. She was about to ask more questions but Xander showed up and came into the waiting room. He hugged Willow, concerned. This was their first birth. Willow frowned. "I should call Joyce, shouldn't I?"

No one had a response to that so they all just stood and waited for news. Willow broke first, demanding to see her best friend in her imminent motherhood. They didn't deny the witch and suited her up before she could go in with Buffy. The blond looked worse for the wear in her bed. Every few seconds you could see the pain flash across her eyes. Willow held her hand, whispering a soothing spell for her friend. It was obvious to the girl that her friend was in serious trouble. She went into the hall to find a doctor.

"What's going on?" she demanded, worried. The doctor looked startled.

"We're not sure. There's no logical reason why she should be weakening but for some reason her body seems to be giving out. We're running tests but we don't dare put her under to try a cesarean because we might not be able to wake her back up. Quite frankly we're confused. She's a normal healthy young woman."

Willow nodded gravely, going back to her friends before going back to the Slayer. She related the situation and made it clear what kind of trouble they were in. Spike looked at them when she finished, his eyes hard as diamonds. "I'll go find daddy dearest." He offered. No one stopped him as he left. Xander shifted back and forth on his feet.

"I'll go get Joyce. She should be here if Buffy's in trouble." Willow nodded knowing that it was decided that she'd stay with the Slayer.

She went back to the room trying to look more cheerful than she felt. Everytime they touched she pushed a little more magic into her friend, trying to keep her strength up. Buffy started to groan and then those groans intensified into screams. A nurse responded, dipping between the blond's legs. She hurried out of the room once she took a look to alert someone to the fact that Buffy was fully dilated. Willow grabbed her best friend's hand and tried to help as best she could. Really, there wasn't much she could do but what she was already doing.

"This birth is remarkably fast." The doctor joked, coming in. "Let's see what we're dealing with, Miss Summers and hopefully we can introduce you to this little one soon. Have you alerted the father?"

Willow smiled. "He was at the store getting ice cream when her water broke. We're waiting for him to come home. I'm sure he'll be here soon."

Buffy panted, grabbing her friend's hand. "Willow?" The redhead immediately turned her attention back to the Slayer. "You're doing fine, Buffy. People give birth all the time."

The doctor set her up, propping up her legs and calling in a nurse to help. Willow helped by comforting her and pushing in her magic in subtle ways to ease the pain.

"Alright, Miss Summers, this baby is ready to come on out here to meet us all. Everything seems to be in place so I need you to get ready to push for me."

The blond gave her friend a desperate look knowing she was much weaker than she should be. She didn't know if she could do this but the redhead nodded reassurance. She was the Slayer and stronger than all of them put together. She pushed, screaming in effort and pain alike; trying to do what was expected. She wanted her lover, tears slipping down her cheeks. Willow was crying, too, trying to keep her spirits up with small words.

The blond was in agony, screaming her pain with each push but she kept going, using the energy left in her body to bring the new life into the world. She heard the cry of the baby sometime later and passed out into blessed consciousness just a moment later. Willow blinked, not realizing what had happened while they were moving the baby. "It's a girl." They announced.

Willow noticed the slackened hand in her own and panicked, shrieking at the pale color of Buffy's face. The doctor's brushed her aside and immediately went to work. The baby was separated from the mother quickly and taken away while Willow watched, scared beyond all reason. She rushed out into the hallway and met Joyce coming in. She stopped the woman with her hand and a look.

"I wouldn't, Mrs. Summers." She said. "They're about to take her away to surgery. Something's wrong."

The woman's eyes grew round with fear. "The baby?"

"Is a girl. She's fine."

"Buffy?"

"Not as good. Something's wrong with her. She passed out."

Sure enough the doctors were wheeling Buffy down the hallway toward a close OR. Joyce followed as she could, explaining she was Buffy's mother. They let her hold her daughter's hand on the trip for as long as they could before making her go wait elsewhere. They brought the baby out and the older woman was generous enough to let the two best friends hold her before she took the baby and held it in her arms. She was adorable, perfect in the eyes of her grandmother. The baby cooed, sleepy from her exhausting journey. They had her wrapped tightly but her face was round and red and she had a thick crop of black hair and bright blue eyes. She knew from experience that the eyes might change and the hair would go to it's natural color in time.

"She looks like Buffy." She murmured, cradling the infant.

Willow was prepared to agree when she saw several tall figures in long black robes walk past the waiting room and toward the back of the wing. She got a chill from them and it wasn't because the waiting room was too cold. Her eyes widened and she immediately rose from her chair.

"Buffy." She whispered, following.

The men moved down the hall and the witch after them. Those that stood in their way were immediately put aside and Willow's heart sank when they stopped in front of the operating room. It was the same one Buffy was in. The pushed through the swinging doors to protest and the witch broke into a run.

"Where is Giles?" she moaned, seeing the black robed men standing over Buffy's unconscious body.

"Ethan" the captive Britishman growled, "let me go this instant you sonofabitch or I shall be forced to thrash you quite severely."

The other man laughed, waving in his direction. "If you want to be free I'm sure you can find some way out of there Ripper, mate, but I wouldn't go just yet."

"Explain yourself." Giles demanded. "What's this all about?"

"You and your Slayer thought you were clever, weren't you, sending me to the basement but I knew what you were up to, even before the whole neighborhood could hear it. I know that hunger when I see it in your eyes. I used to watch it nightly in the clubs back in Bath or when you found a new spell to try. I saw it again when that convenient little blond Slayer came round."

Giles listened in quiet shock, not quite sure what the hell Ethan was getting at but knowing whatever it was it wasn't going to be a good thing by the time he was finished explaining. Ethan wasn't well known for well thought out plans or really anything good. Where Giles woke up with their friend's death and decided to move gracefully into adulthood, Ethan still clung to those loose ideals and still sought the mental highs serving agents of chaos like they both once did. He continued in a smug voice that let Giles know he was quite proud of himself.

"You left me alone in the lower level of your house shagging that poor girl senseless. The one thing you forgot was that you left me alone down there with all your bits and ends…magical things." The man grinned. "We both knew we gave up all rights to have children when we let such strong magic run rampant through our bodies."

It was then that Ethan noticed the outright shock on Rupert's face. The Britishman began to laugh and the sound rang out across the room and made the Watcher wince at the sound of it. He'd been a fool, of course, to believe something this wonderful could happen to him without some string attached to come choke him with the truth. His face fell and though he hated to give Ethan the satisfaction he couldn't stop himself. His heart felt like it was in his shoe. Their baby…he should have known better. The other man smiled, continuing to taunt him cruelly.

"Oh, Rupert, it's too perfect! Did you really think someone in the heavens just decided to undo what you'd ruined yourself? Did you think it was a miracle that you and the little temptress conceived in your one night of passion? As awe inspiring as I'm sure it was, even you know that nature can't be bent without help and lucky for you I'm just the bloke to bend it. You were so panicked by the idea of her friends finding out your secret that you didn't even notice the rings of power you passed through or the mendant's powder in the air. You see, it wouldn't have worked if you'd stayed in your room but luckily paranoia worked to my advantage."

His mind raced back to that day and tried to remember anything that would let him refute the other's claim. This wasn't magic – this was a miracle given to him. He remembered pulling on clothing. He remembered feeling euphoric, the magic. At the time he'd assumed it to be simply and after effect of their lovemaking. That powder on his clothing. He'd barely noticed it and passed it off as dust. And the magical cupboard, the bottles knocked over. He thought it was Willow…not….oh, God!

"You bloody…" Giles began but he was cut off by the other once again.

"You see, you really are convenient in all of this. All I needed was the child of the Slayer to complete my plan. Do you realize how rare it is to have one come along? It was so extraordinarily convenient that I just happened to know someone shagging a Slayer in the same house as that well stocked magical cupboard."

"What are you going to do, Ethan? Is this as stunningly misguided as your other plans to incite chaos?"

"I got out of the chaos business when I turned you into that demon. You see, your Slayer let me know what was at stake if I did something in this town again."

"You imagine she'll be pleased when she finds out about this, then?"

"Ah, that's right, Ripper. I forgot to tell you about the bonus prize. You see, by the time this is all over that precious Slayer of yours won't be alive to kill me. Surely you noticed how tuckered out the poor thing's been. I needed to insure that the child lived to be born, you see, and that the mother didn't live through the birth. Slayers aren't well known for their knack at survival."

"You harm one hair on her head and I'll kill you!"

"Oh, no doubt about that, old man. Fortunately, I plan ahead. Soon as the child's born the mother is sure to die and, well, I can't have you interrupting my plans. I hate getting my hands dirty but I'm afraid this is goodbye, mate."

The last thing Giles was aware of was the cold barrel of a gun pressed to his head and the sound of a pistol cocking next to his ear.


	7. Hangman's Noose

Willow stared in horror at the men in black hovering over Buffy's unconscious body. She had no idea what to do but kept herself from charging in because they seemed to be helping her. She stood at the door and only then did she hear Joyce cry out and the baby crying. She ran back just in time to see Joyce lying on the floor, eyes open and a blank look on her face. Her neck was broken, snapped. She was dead. The redhead didn't have time to dwell on that now. The baby was crying in the arms of the black robed men and she had to get her back.

"You can't have her!" she declared, stepping in front of them. Magic flared to life inside of her and the man holding the infant paused.

"We have no quarrel with you, witch. We are saving the mother's life and taking them both."

Sure enough a stretcher was wheeled out of the operating room doors and Buffy was lying there weak but wide eyed. As she passed Willow and saw her daughter she gave a small sound. The man in black nodded reverently as they passed him. The redhead was, by now, completely confused. What the heck did these people want killing one person and healing another? Even if they were taking the baby they seemed to view her as sort of a tiny goddess or something. She didn't know what to do. In the end she knew she had to defend her friend.

"I can't let you take her." She said again, with less conviction than before. She man in black robes shook his head.

"We are taking her and there's nothing you can do about it, witch. If you try to interfere I will kill you. By now Ethan Rayne has surely secured the father and we must reunite the family."

"Ethan Rayne? Are you kidding me?"

"He is a necessary inconvenience. We will not suffer his presence much longer. Not when we have the entire family."

"You can't have them. Those are my friends."

"They are the parents of the child. They deserve a place of honor among us. I no longer have time to debate this with you, witch. Please step aside and let me pass."

Of course she refused and she was blasted back with a sudden burst of telekinetic energy and a simple wave of the man's hand. Willow was flung back against the wall and tried to struggle to her feet. She wasn't able to. Her body gave out and she collapsed back down. The last thing she was aware of was darkness overcoming her.

Giles knew he was in danger. With a gun cocked and pressed against his temple he was surprised by the thoughts that crossed his mind. The most absurd things. He thought of his horse in England, Roland, and how he'd never been to Disneyland. The Watcher had never had a desire to go until he found out he was going to have a family. They gave him an excuse and he thought they might vacation there someday. He thought of Buffy and his child riding in a bright colored ride around a movie set track and him on the sidelines taking pictures. The cold steel reminded him that things don't always go the way one might think they should. If there ever was a time for being clever or miracles, now would be opportune.

"Ethan, I'm giving you one last chance to let me go and save yourself." He growled, straining his muscles against the ropes. Ethan didn't seem particularly worried when he saw all the knots holding firm. He laughed, looking at Giles with an evil smile on his lips. He believed that his victory was in hand and he could take away his rival's life at any time he chose, completely at his own leisure. The Watcher continued to struggle despite, needing to preserve his own life for the sake of his child and for its mother. He was beside himself with worry.

"Ripper, old man, you're only delaying the inevitable. This is really bordering on pathetic now. What else can you want to accomplish? You'll be a father. For all of ten seconds but you will be a father. Enjoy it while it lasts."

"I'll kill you, Ethan." He promised in a low growling voice he was shocked to hear come from his lips. He'd never been so angry before. He could only see things tinted in the color red and he was so furious he was literally trembling where he sat with the force of it. The other Englishman laughed again and pressed the gun barrel back against Rupert's head. He cocked the gun and gave a small smile to his former best friend. "Really, Ripper, you ought to be pleased. Now you'll never know how badly you'd have mucked up being a father."

The gun cocked and was once again pressed against his head. Rupert cringed, expecting any moment to be his last. "Stop!" the booming voice rang out and he chanced to crack open an eye. A man clothed in a black robe stood at the far side of the warehouse and was moving toward them rather quickly. The Watcher puzzled a moment. It didn't appear demonic and he didn't seem to recognize the cult of humans by dress. Ethan didn't look too pleased at it came forward and Rupert felt his bonds cut loose. He was about to speak, address the new person in the room and try to find out more information when he was interrupted.

"The blood of the father is sacred. He must not be harmed. He must be taken to the mother and the child."

"He'll kill me!" Ethan complained, watching as the Watcher was helped up and supported. He was still woozy but otherwise in good shape. He thanked God nothing more serious had happened to him but wasn't entirely sure he was in the clear just yet. His former friend followed along and Rupert swore revenge for what was obviously his plot. It wasn't the demon's fault his plot had gone wrong. Most things Ethan did were asinine. Giles became more aware as he was moved through the warehouse and then outside into the warm night air. He was picked up by two more robed men and carried away from the city.

"Now just a minute here!" he protested, struggling. Their grip was firm over him and in the end he had no choice but to be borne where they took him. Little did he know the procession was being followed by a platinum haired vampire.


	8. In A Metal Web

**I'm so sorry for the recent delay in the story. I really wanted to keep going but my muse decided to leave me and hasn't stayed very long or often since, I'm afraid. For those of you still with me do have patience. This trilogy will reach its conclusion even if it's slow to happen.**

**I miss all my commenters!**

Spike followed the procession as they made their way through Sunnydale. People averted their eyes, turned their heads, even headed down new paths to avoid them. That was how the people dealt with the unusual happenings in the town. It didn't exist if they didn't see it and they didn't see a thing unless they chose to acknowledge it. No one ever did and so most people lived in relative peace surrounded by nearly complete ignorance of what lay just beneath the streets.

Giles knew. He was being carried by the people that knew. People, not demons as he'd come to understand. A cult by the look of it who wanted his family and it had something to do with his daughter, a child he had not yet laid eyes on but he loved her all the same. Ethan trailed behind being forced to come along despite not wanting to. He knew he'd gone too far with this plan and he deserved to die for not only stealing his former friend's child but also trying to kill his lover.

Buffy, meanwhile, had been carried out into the middle of no where and was propped against a rock. Her daughter was nearby in the arms of a cultist and she was growling on the inside, waiting for her chance to attack. She was getting stronger all the time now that Ethan's spell had not achieved its intended affect. She wondered why these people wanted her and her child and why they'd follow Rayne to begin with. The man was a moron with delusions of grandeur. He never completed his plans.

She shuddered to think how close he'd come this time, parting her from her love.

Spike followed the group with the Watcher, needing more information before he formed a plan of attack. He told himself he couldn't go charging in like Lancelot but part of him imagined doing so, saving Buffy, and having her realize he was the one she wanted. Not that he could do anything Giles did, helping her raise her daughter or even walking into the sunlight with her. He was quickly finding the limitations of his love that he couldn't admit aloud.

They brought Giles into the circle which shocked Buffy when they plopped him down unceremoniously next to her. He quickly hugged her, searching her over with his eyes and hands. She hugged him back, swallowing her fear in a quick sagging moment of relief. She didn't brush his hands away as she might have in annoyance at any other time. She was feeling too needy for that and, besides, she'd almost died and left him behind. She wasn't foolish enough not to recognize it.

"I almost lost you." He told her, echoing her thoughts and meaning Ethan's pistol against his head. He also meant her weakness nearly defeating her but didn't ask how it was she was sitting there. He didn't want to know. The only thing that mattered was that she was there with him now and appeared unharmed. He looked for his daughter and found her in the arms of a cultist.

Spike snuck away seeing enough. It was time to call the cavalry. Willow and Xander would help. They had to. This was their family at stake and though they didn't like him that wasn't important.

"Our daughter..." Buffy's eyes traveled up to where her little girl lay in a stranger's arms. She was close to panicking. "I don't even know what they want with us, Giles. She must be so scared."

"We'll get her back. No harm will come to her. I swear it, Buffy."

The lead cultist held the baby to him and looked at her. He held her up before the crowd, minding her head and being reasonably gentle with her. The crowd responded in unison. "All hail the hell child! All hail the blood of the mother! All hail the blood of the father! The blood is sacred."

"Now see here! My child has nothing to do with Hell. Whatever this prat has told you isn't true."

Giles got to his feet before being knocked back down. He was restrained and their daughter started to cry. A strange dark feeling coiled like a serpent in his stomach and started moving throughout his body. It was a power he hadn't felt in a long time. When the baby cried Buffy struggled against their captors and though she was getting stronger it was clear she was not strong enough yet to break free. She reached out for her.

"It'll be ok, darling."

The lead cultist looked over. "Peace, sacred parents. We must follow the path in front of us. This child through the blood will bring forth Hell on Earth. It has been decreed."

"My child is not a Hell ANYTHING!"

Spike went back to Sunnydale and rallied Xander and Willow, preparing as quickly as they could some manner of protection and rescue. They all stormed off toward the path Spike traveled to follow them in the first place. The redhead looked nervous in spite of everything.

"What's happening? Are they in danger?"

"They don't seem to be. Baddies are big on ceremony looks like."

"Why?"

"Don't rightly know. Cut out before I could find out more."

"No. I mean why are you helping her?"

On that count he stayed quiet and just walked along. There wasn't a good answer for it and he didn't want to reveal his private thoughts. They made it to the clearing and Spike stopped them both, dropping low. They were all around the fire, still, the leader on the raised stone above the fire with Giles and Buffy restrained behind. Neither looked happy.

The robed man holding the baby smiled, his hood falling behind him. "Tonight we witness the birth of Hell. All we need is a bit of blood."

A knife flashed in the firelight and the baby screamed again, bright blood clinging to the silver knife. A small nick on her arm, nothing more but that hardly made anyone feel better. Buffy screamed and Giles emitted a growl he'd never heard from himself before. It was an inhuman sound. The dark feeling inside intensified and his eyes began to turn black. He tore free from his captors and Buffy saw black electricity crackle around his hands. It looked like the power Ripper showed her except Gorgolek took it back. She didn't ponder on it too long as Giles attacked the lead cultist. The blood flew into the fire and a swirling portal opened, presumably to hell. The entire gathering erupted in Chaos.

Spike broke out into the clearing, trying to work his way toward Buffy. She was all he really cared about but they were hopelessly outnumbered. Willow worked on magic, trying to stun or incapacitate as many as she could while Xander snuck, sight unseen, toward Ethan. Everyone had their goals and worked toward them.

"My child!" Giles roared the words as he made his way toward his daughter. "If you have taken from the my daughter or harmed a hair on her head I swear I will make you pay for it in agonizing degrees for as long as you draw breath and I promise I will make that a very long time."

The black lightning lashed out from his hands and Buffy struggled to her feet. She stood behind her lover, watching the priest very carefully for an open moment where she could get what she wanted. Giles had to be careful, measuring his power so that he didn't accidentally hurt his baby. That could not be tolerated. He circled, slowly, around him.

"I'll give you one chance to hand my daughter over before I kill you."

"We both know that you won't risk your precious baby's safety."

"She'll be safe."

Giles lunged, and collided with the priest, wrestling for control of his child. Buffy screamed as the baby fell out of his arms and fell toward the portal. She dove to catch her, acting without thinking and caught her daughter just in time to fall through the portal. Giles watched, reaching for her entirely too late. He loosed a gravelly cry of anguish to see them disappear and the portal closed.

"Buffy, no." He jumped from the platform and scrabbled at the ground. "NO!"

The black magic intensified around him, crackling audibly. "What have you DONE?"

The blast of magic knocked everyone to the ground, a circle of power whipping out around him. No few of the cultists were dead. Spike and Xander had Ethan secured and Willow was watching fearfully. She crept forward. The main cultist lay on the ground behind them, slumped against the stage. He was frantic, losing control over the desperation inside him manifesting in magic he'd kept suppressed for a long time. His attention turned from the place where his beloved disappeared to the figure on stage.

"You." His voice dropped, deadly calm. He lifted the man with one hand by the front of his robes. The man woke in time to be thrust into the fire, black flames rising around him. They burnt his clothes and the smell of scorched flesh was in the air but no wounds appeared on his body. He screamed, writhing, his face contorted in agony.

"Giles what are you doing?" Willow cried out, terrified at what was happening.

"He took my daughter, Buffy. He will help me get them back."

He pulled the man out of the fire. "There is no scenario in which you will live but at least if you tell me how to get my loved ones back I will make your death quick."

"They have fallen into Hell and out of your reach."

"Tell me!"

He thrust the man into the fire again, black magic once again surrounding him and dragging him into crippling agony. Giles let him scream until the man when horse and his forearm was covered in burns that he ignored. If it didn't get his love and child back he didn't care. Willow felt tears sliding down her cheeks. She'd never seen him like this before. He was the one to make sense and champion logic over brute strength. He was the one that warned her against the abuse of black magic.

"Giles, stop it!"

He blinked, jade momentarily swirling in his black eyes.

"Willow...I..." He pulled the man from the flames looking worse for the wear and head lolling.

"Enough!" He was panting. "It is possible to open the portal. You need the child's blood."

Giles looked for the dagger that had cut his precious little girl. There was no blood on it. It had been such a small cut. "How do we?"

He was thinking rapidly, wracking his brain for an idea when the head priest spoke again. "You promised."

"Yes, I did."

He used the priest's very own knife, burying it between his ribs. Killing a man in cold blood wasn't something he was practiced with and he forced himself to stop and watch until the last breath was released. No one else knew what to do, watching it. He wasn't the man they were used to but once the leader died the black seemed to clear from his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I need her back. Both of them. I'm nothing without them Willow."

"We'll get them back, G-man." Xander left Spike to guard Ethan.

"The blood. Our blood. I would bleed every drop in my body to get them back again, safe."

"Without Buffy..."

"I know, Willow."

"What about this?"

Part of Buffy's hospital gown lay on the stone, soaked in her blood as she was dying. Giles came over, picking it up gingerly.

"This should do."

He picked pulled the knife from the dead body in front of him and wiped it clean, despairing a little inside. He drew a cut over his fore arm spilling his red blood over the cloth. Then he cut it in half and handed one to Willow.

"Open the portal again in an thirty minutes. Nothing more than that. Promise me, Willow."

"I promise Giles."

He tossed his portion of the cloth into the fire and watched the portal open in front of him. "Take care of each other. Half an hour, Willow."

Then he was gone.


	9. Trapped In Hell

Despite his knowledge to the contrary the word hell had always evoked in Rupert the Sunday school image of fire and brimstone and infinite torture at the hands of a sadistic keeper. Now he knew that hell did not just define one place but rather a multitude of them, each existing in their own space and comprised of their own separate landscapes and beings. At the moment, though, the hell he was in appeared remarkably similar to those first images he was presented as a boy. The land now surveyed was uncomfortably hot with a red glow around him and rocky crags thrust out of the ground like formidable giants that dared him to cross. He saw no red imps with pitchforks but that was not enough cause to think he was safe here, by any means.

His love and daughter were the only things that mattered to him now. As much as he wanted to cry out for them he didn't dare, not until he knew what dangers lay in waiting. He didn't want to stray too far from his point of entry, either, or he'd risk losing sight of where the portal would open up again in so few minutes he wondered if it was enough time to be successful. If he missed this ticket home he'd risk them all here, forever.

Then came the unsettling thought that perhaps time worked differently in this hell as it often did in other dimensions. If that was so thirty minutes could be an instant or an eternity. No, he silently chided himself, do not give in to fear. Supposition would not help him find his loved ones and it certainly would not get him home. The best course of action, the only one afforded to him, was to find them as quickly as possible by whatever means necessary. This meant taking the risk of shouting.

"Buffy!"

No matter if the sound echoed along the barren landscape much farther than he'd like. He strained his hearing for some reply that didn't come. Then he heard it, a high-pitched wail like that of a newborn child. He was running before he was conscious of what he heard, shouting for Buffy to tell him where she was and praying that they were still together. If they weren't he wasn't sure what he'd do.

"Giles?"

There, off to his left. He slowed, adjusting his course to follow the sound.

"Dearest, where are you?"

He saw blond hair sticking out from under a rock and his heart fell. He was sure she'd been crushed in this god-forsaken place and didn't see his daughter. Had she been taken?

"Buffy?" He scrambled to get to her and only when he was closer did he hear her moan. "Christ, Buffy, are you alright? Answer me dearest. Tell me you're alright."

When she managed to wriggle out from under the rock he let out a cry and held her tightly. For a split second he thought he'd lost her – one of only two things now that mattered most to him in the entire world. He'd never felt such heart wrenching misery before in his entire life. Not even when Jenny died had he felt so utterly abandoned, so alone and just plain defenseless. He had never been so angry, either, or lost control so thoroughly. Once he felt that she was real and solid in his arms his thoughts moved on to the secondary but no less compelling question.

"Where is our baby?"

"I hid her."

She leaned down and peered under the rock, a crevice not very big but enough for the Slayer and child to hide beneath. He looked as well and reached out for his daughter. He scooted her carefully until she could be reached to be picked up properly and then he held her in his arms for the first time.

"My baby," he cooed, "my beautiful little girl. I have been waiting a long time to meet you, darling, and you are more beautiful than I could have imagined. I promise I will always love you, always keep you safe and I will always put you and your mum first in my life."

He traced a fingertip down her tiny face. She opened her eyes and looked at him in wonder, cooing her approval of his vows. For a moment while looking at her he almost forgot where they were and how they came to be here. Everything melted away except his family and he meant what he said – they would always come first. He would always make sure they knew they were loved by him, endlessly. But then, of course, reality was not quite so kind. He was jerked back to it with a start as Buffy spoke.

"Oh my God, what happened?" Buffy finally spied the burnt remnants of his sleeves and the burned flesh of his right arm. He tried hiding it now as an afterthought but it was no use.

"Magic."

"They used magic on you?" She sounded horrified.

"No, no not quite. The other way round I'm afraid."

"I don't understand."

"We'll speak of it later."

"Giles, I…"

"Wait, Buffy, how long have you been here?"

She looked at him quizzically. The complete change of subject out of the blue baffled her. "I don't know."

"Try, dearest, this is important."

"Maybe half an hour. It's hard to tell in this place. Nothing changes. It's sort of the last thing I was thinking about. Why?"

"Because Willow is opening the portal again in half an hour, Buffy, and we need to be prepared for it. We only get one shot to go back."

"So what's the good news?"

"I love you."

Though that was good news she knew it had to be pretty grim for him not to have a back up plan. He was Giles and always had a back up plan. He considered her with those beautiful jade eyes, full of concern.

"How strong are you feeling now?"

"Strong enough. I can manage."

"Buffy don't you ever, ever scare me like that again. My heart can't take it. I cannot lose you."

She thought about her kiss with Spike just before her labor set in and felt a pang of guilt. "You won't."

"No matter what get the baby and yourself out of here. We haven't met any of the locals yet and God willing we won't but…"

Murphy was happy to oblige the Watcher, a loud roar emerging from off to the right. Buffy immediately looked to the source, a bigger demon than she'd ever seen in her life was standing on the top of a rocky crag, a black outline against a red backdrop. It's snout was full of jagged teeth and its wicked claws were long and sharp looking. It's skin was a dingy brown that blended in and stood out from the landscape. It looked terrifying and she wanted to hold her baby closer. Giles did it for her, covering the little girl's head protectively.

"My God! Those are what Ethan wanted to unleash on the world."

"Bastard." Giles agreed, wishing he'd been able to offer Ethan his just desserts. He still might be able to if they ever got back. Buffy, wide eyed, stayed transfixed by the demon.

"Maybe it won't…"

But the baby wailed her fear and frustration with being hot and now cramped, the cry loosed over the ground and echoing as Giles' call had earlier. The demon immediately heard the foreign sound and turned its head their way. Being some distance off it didn't see them immediately, sheltered in the crags. His heart dropped, what could he do? He had to keep his family safe; that was the only thing. Cautiously he handed the baby to Buffy.

"Forgive me little one." He placed a gentle touch to the baby's forehead and coaxed her to sleep with magic. "The portal will appear right over there, Buffy. Get under the rock. When the demon is distracted you run as fast as you can. Make it through that portal. No matter what happens you make it through, do you hear me?"

Tears started spilling from her cheeks and she nodded. Grief wouldn't let her say a word. She knew what he aimed to do. He kissed her, pressing his lips in full against her own. When he pulled away he set his expression to grim resignation and nudged her toward her hiding place.

"It's been a privilege to love you, my darling."

She shook her head, protesting his ability to talk like that. He was coming with them. He had to come with them. She couldn't do any of this without him. Even as she crawled beneath the rock, baby in hand, she was protesting without words. All she could do was hold the sleeping baby close and watch in horror. Had she ever wished to be normal? Had she ever wanted a life like everyone else? Who would want this sense of hopelessness? Not her, surely.

Giles got up and moved out into the open ground to meet the demon even as it came down to find the source of that sound. There was power crackling around him again but not as bright as it had been before. The mind was willing but the body was faltering. Such power was not meant for human form for very long and he'd used a great burst of it in his righteous anger before. Buffy saw him and knew he'd struggle until his last breath…

No! Don't talk like that. He _will_ live! He _has_ to!

The demon was curious at first, its contact with humans a rare and fleeting thing. It didn't speak the language apparently though Giles was cursing up a British storm. So, too, did British swearing seem to be ineffective against hell dimension demons. It got angry with Giles and swatted him like a meddlesome fly, tossing the man a good ten feet. Buffy had to cover her mouth to prevent making some sort of sound to give her and her daughter away. It was hard because both of them were blocking the portal. She couldn't get to it without being spotted.

"Come on Giles, get him away," she whispered to herself. This felt like sacrifice, killing himself so that she and the baby could get away clean. It wasn't fair.

He forced himself up but she could see how hard that was for him even from her vantage. He looked at his opponent and blasted back a shock of magic.

"Is that the best you've got?" he taunted.

The demon seemed to understand that and roared, advancing. Giles kept backing up to get the demon to follow him. The demon's strides were much larger than his but that didn't matter. He could run if he had to but he needed to keep the demon interested until Buffy could get to the portal. That was the only thing he wanted, to live long enough to see her through. He kept throwing magic at it and though it didn't appear to be wounding the thing, or not so much that the wounds were visible, it kept the demon on his trail.

The portal opened, swirling, and Buffy moved from her hiding space and bolted toward it. Giles saw her and started attacking the demon in earnest to keep its attention from what could be very fast food. This didn't sit well with the thing and it roared again, differently, and a few roars answered in return before it went after its prey. Buffy faltered hearing that and looked over.

The demon grabbed Giles and flung him again over back in the direction they came from. It spied Buffy and sounded its call. The answer it received was closer this time. The Slayer shivered. "No." It was getting help. Giles didn't stand a chance and he was now lying on the ground. She didn't see him moving. It went against everything inside of her to leave him knowing he'd die. The demon picked him up by a leg and held him upside down, shaking him a little. The claw gripped tighter and she heard a crunch echo over the landscape and her lover screamed, awakened by the pain.

"NO!"

Willow fretted at the portal. This was the last shot they had and she did something reckless by using magic to try and keep it open as long as she could. It was a large and advanced bit of magic she was using to do it and it was draining her. Xander had gone to get his truck to drive to where they were. They needed something to get everyone to the hospital again. Spike saw two hands thrust through the portal, the baby lifted into their world. He took it, looking through to see Buffy there. Fear was written on her face.

"Spike! Take the baby! Please, take the baby."

"Bring her back!" he demanded in return. "Just step through the bloody portal."

"I can't…Giles…he going to die if I don't do something."

"Buffy…what can you even do for him the state you're in?"

"I have to try."

He reached out to take the infant, carefully cradling her to his cold body. He knew he couldn't talk her out of this and knew where her heart lay.

"I'll see her safe. I promise, Slayer."

Willow watched but had no idea what they were saying over the roar of the portal. She shouted to Spike.

"I can only keep it open a little while longer. Tell her to hurry up!"

Spike nodded and looked to Buffy. He handed her the sword he'd brought and she took it gratefully.

"You only have a few minutes until you're stuck there. Make the most of it, Buffy."

The blond nodded and though she wasn't at full strength she needed to protect her lover. Sword in hand she went back into the clearing away from the portal. Giles was protecting himself but he couldn't hold out much longer. The magic around him was weak and the demon knew it, continually batting at the barrier with its claws. She saw, too, that his leg was bloody and appeared to be at an odd angle.

She moved forward, flipping her sword in hand and getting a feel for it. The look on her face said everything.

"Buffy, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

She spared him only a glance as she passed. The echoing roars were almost on top of them and then there would be no way to save either.

"I won't lose you, Giles. I've lost too much already." And another once she learned her mother had been killed.

A human with a sword was something the demon hadn't seen before. It was careful, swatting at Buffy to test the purpose of her toy. It didn't like the results. Though Buffy wasn't at her best for strength she was clever and focused and right now very determined. That made her an ample match for her opponent. It roared and attacked and she parried back, driving the demon away. It kept calling for its friends and the returns were closer all the time.

At least this dimension didn't seem densely populated.

The demon swept its claws at her and she ducked, driving her sword up through its arm. It's own momentum ripped the blade through its flesh and threw both weapon and wielder a distance away. Buffy landed heavily with a groan. She lay there dazed a moment and the demon charged her.

She froze for a second as it charged and Giles called to her, trying desperately to get to the woman he loved despite his uselessly mangled leg. He felt strong arms go around him lifting him up and was surprised to see Spike standing there.

"What are you doing? Help her! Help her, for God's sake!"

"I am. Getting you safe is what she wants. She can't take care of the demons and get you out at the same time."

The vampire started trying to help him toward the portal that was shrinking fast. It sent fresh waves of agony through his body and he grit his teeth. He spared a glance back at his beloved only to see the demon skewered on her sword and the Slayer getting from underneath it drenched in dark blood. She jogged over to them and helped get him through.

"Hurry! I can't hold it anymore!" Willow looked pale and shaken.

With a deafening boom her magic let go and the portal sucked them through before closing. All of them were thrown to the ground but most of them didn't move. Giles passed out from pain and strain. Willow was beyond exhausted with her efforts and was unconscious as well. Buffy groaned, pushing herself up. Her strength was coming back; she could feel it. Her eyes darted around for her child and settled on Xander sitting on the stone dais, hold the sleeping baby in his arms.

"Don't try to get up, Buff."

"The baby."

"She's fine. We're gonna get you guys to a hospital."

"We nothin'." Spike looked to the lightening eastern sky. He was cutting it so close he'd have to go to ground for the day. "It's a bit bright for me."

They all nodded solemnly and let him move off into the trees away from the light. Now there was only one able body among them and one Slayer pretending to be able. Xander took her to his car first and tucked her into the front seat with the baby, reclining it so she could rest. He was firm on that, resting, and for once she didn't argue. She just leaned back gratefully and slept while he went to go get the others.


	10. Picking Your Ropes

For the few days they were in the hospital Buffy and Giles were in the same room. The nurses brought the baby in to bond with them both and to nurse, keeping the couple as close as they could in their situation. When she was able she got up and moved to his bed, lying with him as best she could, the whole family together. Sometimes she'd just stay silent and when she did he held her gently, whispering that they'd made it through and that they were both alive and together and that was what mattered more than anything else.

Giles' leg was all but useless, mangled by the demon in his effort to get Buffy and the baby out of there alive. The doctors had taken him into surgery to try and correct as much damage as they could but they were assured that he'd never walk without a limp, or a cane, for the rest of his life. He took the longest to recover and wasn't even out of the hospital in time to go to Joyce's small funeral. She went alone and held her daughter, watching the baby's namesake get lowered into the ground and felt a profound sense of loss. Willow told her that Joyce had at least met the baby and held her and how she said it looked like Buffy.

Somehow the thought wasn't comforting and it was all at the same time. It seemed like to bring this little girl into the world she'd had to lose something and hated that idea. It was unfair.

With the baby between them he looked down at his family and smiled. "We should name this little one."

"She has a name. I'm calling her Joyce. Joy for short."

He considered it a moment knowing he didn't have much of a place to protest. It seemed appropriate, all things considered, and this child was his joy along with her mother. He smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple, smoothing his hand through her hair.

"Alright, darling. Joy it is."

With that settled Buffy seemed to relax though not a lot of emotion carried on her face. Even her tone of voice seemed flat these days and he wondered what the problem was, if it was just loss or more than that. He hadn't seen her cry much less smile.

"About your mother…" he ventured softly.

"No!" her voice was a thunder crack in the silence. She softened her tone as she continued. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But, Buffy!"

"No! I _don't_ want to talk about it."

And that was that. He sat with her in silence a while, puzzling and being concerned. He didn't want to push her but knew she tended to internalize her pain and, if anything, she should have learned by now that internalizing doesn't help. Being who he was, though, he let her and stayed quiet for now.

"We should move into the house."

"Your mother's house?"

"My house now, unless I sell it."

"And you think you're quite ready for that?"

"There isn't much of a choice. Your apartment is only one bedroom."

Secretly he'd been looking for houses to buy to surprise her with a home of their own. He'd even found one he liked the look and feel of, a cozy three bedroom with a white picket fence very close to the university, not that anywhere was far away in this town. No one could have forseen her mother's murder but that didn't make it any easier. He wasn't sure he wanted to be there among Joyce's memories.

"Actually, I put in an offer for a little house near the campus a week or so ago. It's ours if we want it. I was going to surprise you."

Buffy's hazel eyes turned to him and narrowed. "You bought a house without me?"

That wasn't what he expected. He sputtered as he lay in his bed a second or two. "I knew space concerned you. The flat's too small for a baby. I thought you'd be pleased."

"How can I be happy about it when you didn't even ask my opinion, let alone if I wanted to move?"

"Buffy, please, calm down dearest."

"I am calm!" She nearly shouted that, drawing a hard shushing from outside the room.

"Buffy, I'm not the one you're mad at."

"Yes you are!"

"No, I'm not." He lifted the baby and put her in the roll away crib they'd left.

"It was your friend that did this to us and your past we're fighting and if I wasn't weak I would have protected her! I would have saved her from d…" She caught herself and held back the one word she'd been unable to process all this time.

"dying." He supplied softly and her eyes grew wide. As she nodded they filled with tears.

"It's all my fault. I'm her daughter. I should have protected her."

"It wasn't anyone's fault. Things like this happen."

"Not to my mom! Not to my family, Giles! She's not supposed to be gone!"

The girl broke down crying, finally, and put herself into his arms, letting herself be held and comforted while grief raged its storm. After a while, once it quieted, he hoped she felt better. She didn't.

"Giles, I cheated on you."

He blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"The night I went into labor. Spike came over, to talk. He gave me a back rub. It felt good. Then some things happened and he kissed me. Or, I guess, we kissed eachother. I'm so sorry!"

"And this was sometime before you went into labor while I was at the store?"

"Just before."

"I see." The disappointment in his tone broke her heart. "Why, Buffy? He's everything you profess to hate."

"He's the only one that didn't treat me like I was broken! He's dangerous and I wanted…"

"The fact that he's dangerous is more reason to stay away from him, Buffy."

"But I like the danger! Ripper knew that. You used to know that but you've been so busy waiting on me hand and foot to realize I was bored, unhappy."

"You're unhappy being doted upon?"

"I'm unhappy being treated like I'm dying."

"I was just trying to make sure you were alright, for the baby."

"I know. And I'm not mad at you for that. You wanted to know why and I'm telling you." For better or worse, the Slayer liked pain and danger.

"I see." He paused, a million things running through his head to say and he banished most of them outright. "Should I be concerned about this?"

"It won't happen again."

"Buffy, if you're unhappy talk to me! You can't keep me at arm's length when I love you so. This doesn't work by halves and not at all when we keep secrets."

"I know, I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you but then everything happened so fast and I didn't have the chance. I felt bad doing it while you were recovering."

"I know I'm not good at love. It baffles me."

"And you think I am?" She looked alarmed.

"Let me finish, please. I know I'm not good at love but I love you with everything I have inside of me. I will endeavor to be what you need, all that you need, if only you'll tell me what that is."

"I know. I love you Giles." She leaned down to kiss him softly. "I'm sorry."

He sighed, but that was from relief. He believed her and now the air could be clear between them. That was all he wanted as they moved forward to welcome this precious life into the world. She was beautiful, everything about her, and though he'd failed to keep her from the danger they faced he would be damned if she came to harm again. He was convinced Ethan would not stop trying and steeled himself to do something he swore he was not capable of anymore: murder. If Ethan came near any of them again he would die and with the hatred Giles had in his heart perhaps he didn't even need to come near.

When he was released she was there to walk him into the light, pushing along a stroller left on her doorstep by a certain platinum haired vampire who'd been keeping himself scarce. He knew his place now after what happened in hell and all he'd done before was to pretend that things could be different between them, that he could be different. He wasn't, not really. He wanted to give her what he knew she deserved so he bowed out of the picture and took up her mantle when she couldn't patrol. It was all the same to the Slayer who didn't need more confusion in her life.

They moved into the house on Revello Drive. It was hard for the Watcher to give up his flat on Oakhurst Lane. He'd been in it for the entirety of his time in Sunnydale. Life wouldn't be the same without it but his landlord was certainly grateful. Despite always having the damages paid for the complex was somewhat hard to get new people into with him as a tenant causing chaos.

For the first few days it was hard to settle into the house. They set up Buffy's old room for Joy and they took the master for themselves for the attached bathroom. She was certainly on edge every time she was inside it, as if Joyce would somehow appear from the woodwork and demand to know why they were in her room. He knew that could only be reconciled in time. The others were near permanent fixtures, each taking shifts so the couple could occasionally get a full night's sleep.

Xander and Willow were out at the moment and Buffy was sitting at the bar in the kitchen while Giles made toast. She was cuddling their daughter when there was a knock at the door. They both looked to it at the same time. Hardly anyone came to visit them these days. Giles moved toward the door, abandoning his toast, as Buffy trailed after.

"Can I help you?"

"Mr. Giles," that wasn't a question judging from the tone of the British accent. "I'm Elliot Roberts and this is Edwin Blackstone. We're from the Council to take you in for trial."

"Trial? What nonsense is this?"

"This is hardly business to be discussed outside."

Though he didn't want to Giles was a gentleman and opened the door a little wider to allow them to pass inside. They both did but lingered close to the door.

"My charges?"

"It's quite the litany, Mr. Giles. The abridged version is the abuse of dire magics, failure to report, reckless endangerment of both innocents and your charge and then there's the new ground of taking advantage of your charge."

"I beg your pardon? I've taken advantage of no one."

"That child's being begs to differ. It's yours, is it not?"

"It is, but I don't see how that's any…"

"Mr. Giles, if you please. That is the lesser of the charges against you and is new ground to be weighed and tread. The larger concern, in our minds, is if you and the Slayer can care for a child given the dangerous nature of your lives."

"You guys are insane!" Buffy burst out, loud enough that the baby woke and began to cry. She quieted. "Who do you think you are coming here to try and drag him off to some stupid trial. I won't have it."

"Forgive me, Buffy, but you do not have a say this time."

"How did you guys even know about this stuff anyway?"

"The Council," Giles supplied, gesturing to the two suited men, "employ Oracles. They're rather handy at knowing things. The child of a Slayer would be large news. I should have thought of that."

"Why wait until now?"

"As I said, it's not against policy to have relations between a Slayer and a Watcher. Your personal life is your own, Miss Summers. However, the other charges forced us to step in once he'd recovered."

"Well he's not recovered and you can't take him." She looked stubbornly resolute on that point. "If you want him you'll have to go through me."

"Buffy, please." Giles raised his hand to stop her. His sense of honor would not let him deny what he'd done, especially murdering that man with his magic. The scars on his arm told of the fire he'd brought. "I cannot deny what I've done, even for good reasons. To tell the truth it will feel good to pay for those crimes." And he hoped the Council would be more forgiving than the law.

"Giles, we need you here. This is, like, monumentally stupid to go with these guys."

"I'll be fine. And I'll be back in a few days. Don't worry about a thing, dearest."

"But…"

"You'll have Willow and Xander. Don't fret. It's just a formality, I'm sure." He didn't have the heart to tell her how bad things might be. These were very bad crimes he was guilty of and he was honor bound to admit them.

"Promise me."

"I promise."

He packed what little there was to pack for the trip and, leaning on his cane, kissed her goodbye and left.


	11. Laying the Trap

The flight back to London was long and quiet while Giles had plenty of time to contemplate his crimes. He was determined to be sorry only for the things he felt he should be sorry for and not a thing more, which would still be plenty. He tortured a man and then murdered him in cold blood. That act alone made him more monster than man. But he would not, could not, apologize for loving Buffy or for the sweet little angel they'd created together. Being with her made him happy despite the setbacks and the danger.

When they touched down the car drove past the flat that he kept in London and straight to the Council building. He was escorted inside and met by the obsequious toad, Quinton Travers. He pointed to Giles' bags and motioned them away, two people appearing from nowhere in suits to do as he asked.

"Please take Mr. Giles' bags to the dormitories."

Giles looked galled but didn't stop the taking of his luggage. "Quinton, what's the meaning of this? I came quietly. Why can't I stay in my own flat for heaven's sake?"

The older man shook his head. "Sorry about this, old man, but rules are rules. The crimes for which you stand trial are too severe to allow you liberties."

"Liberties? Christ! I hardly think staying in my own home is a freedom. Post a guard if you like but allow me that."

"Men are dead, Rupert, and you stand accused. You can see why I cannot allow that."

Giles tried to will his anger to dissipate as he thought about Travers' position. The man was a toad, and unbelievably thick with a stick the size of a totem pole lodged up his ass but what he was doing now at least had a vein of being for someone else's good so he had to comply.

"Very well."

He bowed his head and allowed them to ferret his things away. And, as it stood, Giles knew he was guilty. Undoubtedly so did they. For being the Council and famously stubborn they were being rather civil to him. Quinton led him through the building to his office and had the door closed leaving them alone together. Giles reflected on how the room seemed cold and distasteful, much like the occupant. Still, he was offered a chair and presented with tea, real English tea. He could have blessed the person that handed it to him.

"Rupert, your trial will begin tomorrow but there's no reason for this to be any more unpleasant than it already is."

"I know policy, Quinton, and I know what I've done."

"It's a sordid business, alright, and I don't relish it."

"Come off it, Travers. You've been longing to find a reason to sack me since I told you lot to take a flying leap in the first place!"

"I do not relish our sacred calling to be sullied by something like this!"

"If you believed our calling to be sacred you would not abuse our charges as you do! The rules need to be changed, Quinton, but you would know that if you spent any time with the Slayers. This Council is so far removed from dangerous ground its no wonder it's gotten fat and lazy about its duty."

"Watch your tone, Rupert. You're already on shaky ground."

"Bollocks to your ground and bollocks to you! I'll use whatever tone I bloody well choose."

"You make civility difficult."

"You make it damn well impossible." He shot back.

It was impossible to act contrite around a man that was so arrogant. He'd always have a fundamental dislike of the Council and their rules, or at least the ones he believed unjust. They were all he'd ever known for such a long time but when he discovered their flaws it was a harsh lesson to learn and resulted in a lot of harm being done. Buffy was not just a charge, a Slayer, but a girl and someone to be loved and protected. She was so dear to him now, that affection evolving in its own way over time to the genuine love he now held in his heart.

"Perhaps you ought to lay down, Rupert. Your journey must have made you tired."

"Yes, perhaps I ought." He agreed grumpily. "Though I'm calling Buffy first to check on her and my daughter."

He was dismissed with a wave and made his way to an unused study down the corridor. It was amazing to him how much he remembered this building and how quickly the knowledge came flooding back of path he used to travel and people he used to meet. He'd have to stop in on Liam if he had a chance and have a pint. With the way Travers was talking, though, he didn't expect he'd get the chance.

He made his way into a little used study room and picked up the telephone. It was nearly midnight in Sunnydale but if he knew Buffy, and he liked to think he did by now, she was waiting up by the phone. It was hardly a surprise, then, when the phone was picked up before it even managed a full ring. A smile tugged at his lips and he gave a slight shake of his head, laughing a little at her predictability.

"Giles?"

He took a moment just to revel in that name on those lips, closing his eyes and not realizing the space between them until that moment.

"Dearest. You sound worried."

"You expected me to be pleased?"

"No. No, of course. But you needn't worry. I'll be home before you know it. How is Joyce?"

"She's fine. Sleeping. She looks like you."

"Cor!" He chuckled, "I hope not! She'll be much better served taking after her mother."

"Stop that! I happen to think you're very handsome."

He smiled feeling an immeasurable swell in pride that she thought so. I was amazing how much of him hinged on her now but he wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Is it terrible?" She asked softly, sighing, missing him.

"Well, they're as insufferable as ever if that's what you're asking but it's nice to be here, regardless of the reason."

You could remove the man from England but you could not remove England from the man. Getting a decent cup of tea was likely going to be the highlight of this trip. No matter how much he came to be used to California and all of its, ahem, sunny charm he was still going to prefer the weather of his homeland. It just felt different here and that difference was almost tangible.

"Just come home soon, please. I want you here with me!

"Now, darling, you have the others. They'll help you until I'm through with this nonsense."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it." The pout in her voice was astoundingly cute. He could imagine the expression that accompanied it and smiled.

"No, you don't have to like it. I'll be back before you know it, love."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He hung up the phone feeling a little tug of sorrow. It was a shame to lie to her like this but he honestly didn't know what the next day would bring. In the course of her duties sometimes Slayers had accidents happen. The Council covered up these events, of course, and usually all that it merited was harder training and an evaluation of some sort. Harsher punishment usually wasn't warranted. In fact, Faith was the only case of a Slayer going fully rogue he could recall in recent memory. And, he had to remind himself, her path might have been changed if the whole thing hadn't been so spectacularly bungled. That failure wasn't just on Wesley, he had a portion of the blame as well. Some of the blood was on his hands. He could have tried harder to relate to her, to accept her. He felt the same things as a young man and went to nearly the same dark places.

The former Watcher shook his head to shake this line of thought. Nothing to be done; he could not alter his past. Ah, well, she was in prison now and learning to deal with her choices and the things she'd done. It was a harsh lesson but one she finally came to with Angel's help. She was facing her punishment. He could face his with some sense of dignity.

Missing his daughter and his girlfriend, though that phrase in itself tripped on his tongue. He usually still referred to her as his Slayer, even internally. It was nearly as if the two titles could not co-exist. He pondered this conundrum as he made his way upstairs to the dormitories. His luggage sat unassuming and unmolested by one of the doors at the end of the hall. Sighing, the Englishman pushed open the room that would be his and went to make ready to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a long and harrowing day, he was sure of it.


	12. Hanged Man

Giles was awakened the next morning sooner than he would have liked considering the time difference between London and Sunnydale. It had never been his intention to make California a permanent home. He was there to do his duty and then move on when the inevitable happened. Perhaps a bit callous of him to think it but in the beginning he hadn't known any better. That was what the life of a Watcher had been to him and, to be fair, Buffy died at sixteen. It was not the shortest amount of time a Slayer had lived, certainly, Kendra only managed a few months as the new Slayer before her death, but still she had died and his job was supposed to have been over then. Through Fate she was revived and continued to live, now as his girlfriend and the mother of his child.

Strange to think of the way things had changed in just a few short years.

He was awakened by a nervous tapping on his door and his bleary eyes registered that there was sunlight streaming in through the easterly windows. He knew he hadn't been asleep more than a few hours but jetlag wasn't going to go away in a day. To his dismay he noticed that it was only seven in the morning. His body protested.

"Christ, man, it's only the break of dawn! Can't I get some decent sleep? I did fly in from America."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Giles. The Council wanted to convene early and we thought you might like breakfast before the proceedings."

"Of course they bloody did."

"I can…go?"

"No, no, it's alright. I'm up."

He felt a little guilty for being so grumpy but couldn't help it. No matter how often he'd gotten up early: to jog, to go to work, he never quite got the hang of mastering himself until he had a morning cup of tea. Though, to be fair, usually he got a decent amount of sleep as well. The Watcher stretched and rose from his bed, crossing the room to grab a robe and a cup of tea from the hot water brought for him. The nervous fellow left him alone in the room after a minute explaining that the hearing would take place in the Great Hall where most of the Council's meetings took place. He nodded absently and let the man go, reminded of how young he was when he started all of this for the sake of his father, his family line.

Edna Giles, joined 1924. Alan Giles, joined 1950. Rupert Giles, joined 1977.

He certainly didn't rue the calling anymore but it was not as he would have pictured his life to be by now if he'd had his own way. As much as he'd come to love learning and the books he spent most of his time with there was an element of excitement missing, or had been before he took on Buffy. Thinking of the blond he frowned again and mused about how she was, what she was doing, missing his daughter. He thought about her confession, a niggling thing he hadn't really had a chance to deal with. He loved her, on that point he was absolutely certain, but there was a fear that he could not be what she needed. There had to be a way, a balance to find. They'd have to come to it in time. He was the determined sort.

It wasn't long before Rupert got dressed and made his way to the dining hall. It had been a while since he ate among his fellow Watchers and it was nice to see some things had not changed. The tables were as segregated at Sunnydale High's cafeteria, each group claiming their own space. Travers and the other High Council members had their own table at the head with each of the smaller factions scattered toward the doors. All of the students still seemed to cluster together as they had when he was at the Academy. That's when he saw, to his utter disgust, that someone took the liberty of arranging a prisoner's table.

"Oh, bugger all." He muttered, trying to stop himself from looking livid. This from a man who had told him he was going to have his dignity preserved, eating alone at a single table by a window. Unwilling to subject himself to that kind of humiliation the Watcher glowered across the room at Travers and then turned on his heel, the whole thing souring any appetite he might have had for a genuine English breakfast which was a shame because good English food was not often to be found in small towns like Sunnydale.

He made his way across the building toward the Great Hall and pushed open the doors. He hadn't been in this room in such a long time, not since receiving his assignment to take charge of Buffy and go to the Hellmouth. He'd been proud of himself that day, and a bit afraid, too. He knew nothing of modern teenaged girls and could only imagine what living on a Hellmouth would be like. It had been a heady mixture of fear, excitement, and pride that sat with him, stayed with him, as he received the edict from the High Council which, at that time, had included his father. His father wouldn't be present today, unless it was for moral support somewhere in the back of the room. He was family and therefore biased, also retired for a few years now.

The large room was empty. The dark polished table for the High Council sat at the head of the room waiting for men and women like Travers to come fill it to be able to pronounce judgment on him. It was strange to think he needed to be judged because who could say they would have acted differently with the things at stake then? But he was a good man and wanted to atone for his crimes, however they wanted him to. He bore the scars on his arm from it still, shiny and new, where the flames blistered. It was hidden by his long sleeve but he knew it was there.

The door opened behind him and he turned quickly. A few of the other Watchers were coming in, taking seats among the audience. This was an open disciplinary hearing, he realized. Ah, well, he should have expected it. He took a seat behind his own table facing the High Council and waited for everyone to trickle in before the start time. The room was much more full than he would have liked but since he was a Watcher with an active Slayer he supposed that was something of a draw. Finally Quinton took a seat at the center chair on the long table and looked at him.

"Rupert Giles, please rise and come forth."

He did, swallowing down any thoughts of nervousness. He stood in front of Travers and squared his jaw, meeting his gaze, all of their gazes. These were men and women he'd learned from, rose through the ranks with, and trained with, his peers.

"Would you like, at this time, to hear the full list of complaints against you?"

"No, I don't think that will be necessary. I've heard quite enough to understand them."

"Bearing those complaints in mind, how do you wish to plead?"

"I am guilty of everything you say except when it comes to Buffy, our love, and our child."

"Do you realize what you are saying?"

"Yes, I do."

"Very well. We will make record of this and move on to sentencing."

"Wait! I believe I'm allowed a defense."

"You have confessed your guilt, Rupert."

"That doesn't mean there wasn't a good reason for the things I did. I do not go round throwing away dire magics without cause."

The High Council members huddled together and whispered amongst themselves with the backdrop of more whispering in the crowd. It was not often that they had to discipline one of their own and if that weren't enough there were new and exciting charges to add like becoming an item with his charge, fathering a child by her, and killing a human in cold blood. Murder, while an occasional accident in Slayers, was not usually the fault of the Watchers that led them. When the members came to a consensus it was Travers that spoke for them again.

"Very well, explain yourself."

So he did. He told them about Buffy, Faith, Ethan, and this cult that wanted to worship his daughter as the Hell Child. He explained how the darkness had simply just appeared inside him at the thought of his daughter in danger, being hurt, and how it took over once he saw the baby and its mother disappear into an unknown Hell dimension. He would have done anything to get them back and had. He expounded on the lengths he'd gone to in order to obtain the answers he sought and what happened once he traveled to the dimension to retrieve them, how he was willing to lay down his life for their escape. He spoke simply, passionately, and true and his leg that was not quite the same after it had been broken was proof of his tale.

As he spoke the crowd's mood subtly shifted. Perhaps he was never universally liked but he was respected and his story was understandable. The things he did, while dire, were in the pursuit of protecting not only the woman he loved and his own child, but the Slayer. This was his job and the fact that it was personal did not detract from that.

"Quinton, I know you don't have children of your own but imagine if you did. Those of you with families, this is a family business, what would you do to keep them safe from those forces we face in the line of duty? Most of you do not know what it is like to come across a Trancor demon face to face, that is an experience I would wish upon no one, but it is my life on the Hellmouth. Can you, any of you, say you would act differently? If that was your Slayer, your child, where would you stop in trying to find some way to keep them safe?"

There were sympathetic gazes cast in his direction now, people who could understand where his aggression came from even if they didn't like the ends. The High Council commenced to whispering again, putting their heads together after his harrowing story. They didn't care what the mood of the room was, only that justice, or their brand of it, was done.

"That's a very brave tale you've told us, Giles," Travers began, "and while every single one of us in this room can sympathize with a need to protect family the fact remains that you used dire magics, killed a man in cold blood, and killed several more people with the use of that magic. We cannot condone this course, no matter how understandable it may be."

The Watcher hung his head but accepted that for what it was.

"The main reason we cannot take this so lightly, Rupert, is that you confessed to having this darkness, as you called it, take over. How can we be assured that this will not happen again in lesser circumstances?"

"Well of course it won't, I…"

"Can you promise this? Can you swear it won't happen again?"

He paused and considered the question a moment. While he was a very staunch and disciplined man something other than him had seemed in control in that moment. No, he could not make such promises.

"I cannot." He decided finally.

"Then we have no choices left to us."

"Very well. What is the judgment of the High Council? How shall I pay for these crimes?"

There were more murmurs behind him, a stir in the crowd. He kept his back straight and his eyes on the members of the High Council, elders among their number. This was what he'd resigned himself to and he would accept it with dignity, no matter what came. At least in this Travers was not quite so pompous an ass as he was wont to be usually, probably because so many people were watching him. He sighed.

"It is the decision of the Council that the punishment for these charges be swift and severe. As members before us have done we sentence you to the Trials of Purgatory. Until they are completed you are to be faceless among our ranks. You will find no one to help you and no one to counsel you, a ghost among our number. If you successfully face these challenges we will consider your crimes atoned for in full in the eyes of this Council and its members. You will be reinstated and allowed to return home to your Slayer. If you should fail them…"

He'd be dead.

"Quinton, this is outrageous! Those trials were deemed barbaric and no one has actually been sentenced to them since 1705! What are we, in the Dark Ages?"

"The deaths you caused were likewise barbaric, Rupert. Our judgment is final. Until such time as you complete the trials you will be housed in the dungeons."

"This is…you can't expect…Buffy!" He could barely articulate himself he was so upset. He'd read all about these Trials from other accounts in Council record and from the other Watcher's journals. By all accounts they were twisted terrible things meant to kill the participant. He had no intention of succumbing to them but the fact that this was allowed, agreed upon, galled him.

"This is the payment we've demanded. From here we will escort you to the dungeon to take on the trials at your leisure. Three days or thirty years is wholly up to y ou."

Two members of the Council Guard came to flank him on either side and he took a deep breath. He'd promised to obey their judgment, he only thought it would not be quite so…steep. He guessed he knew whom he could thank for that and shot Travers one last look before being escorted from the room. There were outbursts behind him, more conversation. He couldn't tell if people agreed with the Council or not and in the end it really didn't matter. He was taken to the dungeons below the main building, a throwback from earlier eras, and was locked away in one of the metal cells and left to his own devices. He sat on his cot and put his head in his hands.

"Bugger."


	13. Bound and Gagged

Giles sat in his cell for a very long time contemplating his position. It was within his power to break out any time he chose to. The bars were only ordinary steel and he had magic enough to get the door off the hinges. He could just walk out of the building and away from this ridiculous edict and go back home to his lover and his child. After all, what had the Council ever done for him since he took this assignment? Would it be so bad being a ghost among their number, to have his name struck from their records? It would free him, at long last, from the binds of their expectations.

As much as he wanted to be brave and be free of his sentence he knew he could not. It would not only disgrace his father it would be exactly what Travers expected him to do. Besides, somewhere underneath it all he knew he'd done something unthinkable and wanted to feel like he'd paid for it somehow, that what he'd done was righted in the universe. How could he hope to create a future with his lover when he still had the ghosts of his actions lingering so on his conscience? That was why, after three hours, he was still sitting in his cell with his head in his hands.

The Watcher had no idea what the trials consisted of. He knew there were three parts to it but no one had ever written of what was endured in them; perhaps it wasn't allowed. That wasn't particularly good news for a man that liked heading into situations with planning and knowledge on his side. He thought of Buffy and how he missed her and frowned. Three days or thirty years, Travers said, not really a hopeful prophecy.

"Eschers!"

The sound of his voice echoed down the corridor to the lone guard placed at the end of the hall. He knew of Tom Eschers only by name, a relatively young Watcher who generally stayed in the Council main as a jack-of-all-trades. He guessed that someone drew the short lot to get the responsibility of watching him. It wasn't a particularly important or even exciting job. In fact, if he understood how things went before the only reason he was there was to be notified that a prisoner intended to undertake a trial and would interact with him little more than that.

"I'm ready for the first trial."

The young man nodded wordlessly and turned to disappear back down the hall to make preparations, he assumed. Now there was nothing to do but wait and stew over what would be coming. If he were more practical in the moment he might have been stretching his muscles or trying to limber up his body. He might have tried resting or threading magic into the leg the demon broke that was only freshly out of its cast to make sure it could hold up to whatever was thrown at him. He wasn't thinking of any of that, though, despite being the practical sort. Even with all of his knowledge and experience combating the unknown was proving a far greater challenge than he might have wished.

"Bugger."

He leaned back and laid down on his bed to close his eyes and imagine for a moment that Buffy was there next to him, their infant daughter cooing close by. In his mind this was all wasted time he could be spending with his child. These first few months were critical to their bonding and he wanted to be there!

He heard people approaching and it was Travers himself that unlocked the cell door. He looked more pompous that Giles would have liked but that was usual in the spoiled Watcher. Without a word he stepped aside to let the prisoner pass into the hall. Then he was led through the underground passages to a long corridor he hadn't seen before. He was sure they were walking underneath the main Council building, tunnels traversing the length and width of the considerable building. He'd normally have been fascinated but under the circumstances he couldn't help but be worried.

They stopped by a one of the stone arches in the wall, nothing beyond it but a small alcove not big enough to fit anything into, just a narrow shelf of stone.

"What's the meaning of this?"

Giles didn't have to wait long to see what game was afoot. Magic users under the Council's employ came and started chanting. Now that he knew what was happening he felt fear stab his heart. A portal was opening where the alcove had been, pulsing light obliterated any view of stone. His pulse quickened realizing that this test was not going to take place anywhere that he knew. As much as Giles feared the Council was becoming distanced from the very girls they were meant to protect, more comfortable behind tables of judgment than on the front lines, he took some comfort in familiar surroundings.

A knife was thrust toward him.

"What the devil am I meant to do with this?"

"Figuring that out is half the test, Rupert. Good luck."

Those that had gathered around him all turned their backs in near unison after Quinton spoke. Whatever awaited him beyond the gate it was for him to go and suss out alone. For the first time he keenly felt that solitude, despite being surrounded by bodies. Regardless of how distant he seemed from the Council now these were his brethren, his peers. Frowning, but tucking the knife into his belt, Giles took a deep breath and stepped into the portal.

When he woke it appeared like he was on the ground. It was hard to see but bit-by-bit his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He was outside he realized, in a place that seemed like it was somewhere on Earth. It wasn't anywhere familiar, dense croppings of trees making the landscape mostly too bland to differentiate from any other. Evergreens grew in nearly one hundred percent of forests in the United States, which said nothing of the other forests of the world. He wasn't going to divine where he was until he saw more of the landscape or ran into a native.

Though that prospect wasn't exactly comforting, considering the situation at hand.

He remembered the knife he'd been given and groped for it in the darkness, finding it by the hilt and carefully tucking it away until it could be of some use. What the Council intended for him to do with it was beyond his reckoning at this point.


End file.
